Exclusive Rights
by BooksEqualsGreaterThanLife
Summary: They loathed each other with everything they had. But they also had a deal. Just what happens when disgusting sentiment gets in the way of carrying out that deal? More importantly, will they act on it? And what will become of it?
1. Returning the Favor

**So, hello there, everyone! This is my first Avengers story, and it's been dancing around in my head for weeks, so I had to write it down. I'll say right now that I haven't read any of the comics, and haven't seen all of the Marvel movies, so you'll have to forgive any mixed up info that you find. And when you do, please send me a review so I can try to fix it! :D And since I haven't seen all of the movies, I'm also worried about all of the characters remaining in character. So, if I ever step out of that realm, let me know. I always hate it when writers do that, and I would hate to be a hypocrite, you know?**  
** All suggestions are totally welcome. I can handle constructive criticism, but let's not bash, please?**

**Leave a review if you feel so inclined! Let me know where I'm going wrong!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything remotely related to Marvel, comic books or movies. If I did, Loki would not be the bad guy in every movie he has appeared in. And he would be mine... obviously.**

* * *

The fierce wind toyed with her hair, making it a mess of flames dancing behind her. Pink lips pursed, she stood stoically on the roof of Stark Tower, observing the destroyed remnants of Manhattan. Buildings' walls were torn open, leaving gun-shot like wounds in their wake. Glass was scattered all across the streets, the sun occasionally making them twinkle. The monotonous drone of construction trucks bustled over the shards, drowning out the no doubt loud cracking of the glass. It was incredible how fast the world was so eager to move on, to clean up and start over. Forget what happened and fix it. Make it seem like it didn't even happen.

"I can't believe Hulk did this to my house," she heard Tony whine. "I mean, it's one thing to beat the shit out of Loki, but really? Taking it out on my baby? You need to figure the Other Guy out a little bit better than that, Banner."

"You were the one who said that I needed to strut," Banner's smug voice rolled through her ears, and she couldn't stop the slight twitch of her lips as they tried to curl into a smile.

She should get back to S.H.I.E.L.D. They would need her help fixing everything that had been done. Her booted feet stayed glued to the roof instead.

Her green eyes darted over to the makeshift altar where Loki and Dr. Selvig had planted the Tesseract. All of this damage, this devastation, all caused by one small, glowing Cube. She had seen terrible things in her long lifetime, but never would she have expected for something like this to have happened to her planet. She hadn't even believed that aliens themselves were real, and just today, she nearly got herself killed by fighting them.

Despite being as aged as she was, everything of importance seemed to happen in a blink of an eye for Natasha Romanoff. This war with the God of Mischief only lasting days. Losing her best friend and getting him back in mere days. The Captain being found on the ice, Thor's first visit to Earth, all in the span of a year. Maybe it was her age that made everything seem short; she didn't know. She just knew that now, she was grateful for it all to be over at last. It was time to disappear again and be forgotten.

With a quiet sigh, she finally got her feet to move in the direction of the elevator. She ignored the jabs from Tony, demanding that she remain behind and help him clean his tower. And she ignored the stares from the other Avengers, simply pressing the 'down' button in the elevator and climbing aboard when the doors opened with a sweet 'ding'.

"Job well done, Agent," Nick Fury congratulated as she stepped aboard the flying vessel. "You're a hero today."

Natasha blinked her green eyes. "Where's Loki?" she asked in a gruff voice, avoiding the dark eye of her director, simply staring at the floor.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he replied slowly.

"We won, sir," she stated clearly. "There is nothing more that he can do. The Chitauri are dead, and Thor has the Tesseract. He couldn't trick me anyways; we've already acknowledged that," she debated, folding her arms defiantly across her suit and finally meeting his gaze.

Fury sighed and put his hands on his hips, giving her a small nod. "We put him back in the cage," he grumbled.

"Thank you, sir." Her feet carried her swiftly to the cage in firm and confident strides. Why she wanted to speak with the demigod was beyond her. She hated him with everything in her body, and she was least likely out of anyone she knew to be willing to provide a second chance for someone who had wronged her. But she wanted to see him.

It was the sick and twisted part of her from her childhood. The part that would never go away. To see a man's world crumble around him. To witness pain on her enemy's face. To provoke him and make him feel like the scum that he was. Loki had already treated her this way, and revenge was always something that the agent excelled at.

The doors slid open, a puke green colored cage appearing before her eyes, and a calm and collected Loki sitting on the bench.

So, absorbed in his own destructive thoughts, she crept stealthily up behind him. "Are you here to be a balm, Agent Romanoff?" his deep voice rumbled, making her pause in her advance.

"Depends on what you would call a balm, I suppose," she answered carefully, taking the same seat she had in their last interrogation.

"Surely not another strain of questions regarding my plans?" he continued.

"I don't know what kind of plans you could possibly have at this point," Natasha said snidely.

"I am the God of Mischief, or have you forgotten? I always have a plan."

"Not this time," she said coolly. "Unless it's a plan to be a kiss-ass to Thor and somehow escape and then take over another planet."

"What a lack of empathy you show for this other planet," he mused, and she could faintly see a twitch at he corner of his lips.

"I thought we already covered this. I'm Russian. I don't weep over fallen regimes."

"You _were_ Russian, as I recall," he disagreed.

"It doesn't matter what I am. What matters is that you failed."

He chuckled darkly and stood to walk over to her. "And now I suppose it is your turn to verbally abuse me? Am I correct, quim?" Natasha blinked at the vulgar name, not allowing her mask to slip.

"I don't think that you could be," she replied.

"What?" He looked confused, eyebrows scrunching up together on his fair skin, and she almost smirked in delight.

"You don't have a heart. You're nothing but a monster with Daddy issues. Even when you were sure to win, notice how blessed Daddy stood by Thor. He doesn't care that you lost, does he? I bet he's just sitting on his pretty golden throne making a list of all of the tortures he can… concoct. Or better yet, he may not even let you return home."

"I don't want to go back there," he declared, but she could distinctly see his face losing its calmness and hurt taking its place.

"He could very well denounce you in front of all of Asgard. Thor told us everything." She smirked as she twisted his own words. "You're the monster that parents tell their children bout at night. You aren't even an Asgardian. Your blood is as cold as Jotunheim. Maybe Odin will spill the beans and tell everyone how much of a disappointment you are to his house. He regrets ever taking you under his wing. Should have left you to die in the cold wastelands as a baby. How could he love a monster like you? You lie and kill, but unlike me, you do it for fun, not even as a service. Your whole mind is goaled around destruction and pain, isn't it? How could anyone love pain? It surprises me that Thor even cares about you at all. You, who has threatened to kill everyone he loves, who has been nothing but a jealous brat, ungrateful. Maybe you have him under a spell too?" she sneered. "Just because you can't stand the thought that everyone hates you as much as they should."

"Bitch," he growled, turning away from her.

"At least I'm not going to be somebody's bitch when I go home."

"You got what you wanted," he barked. "You saved your precious Earth from me. Leave me."

"Oh how adorable. The Prince thinks that he has the power to tell me to leave."

"I may be in a cage, but I am not powerless here," he warned.

"Yes, you are. You could have done something hours ago to get out. Unless you like the abuse. I wouldn't be surprised it you did, you sick bastard."

In less than a second, he faced her once more, fist thumping viciously against the thick glass and making her jump in surprise. "When I do get out of here, and trust me, I will, you will be the first that I will kill. And I will enjoy every moment of it, I can assure you."

She scoffed and stood close to the glass, inches of glass the only thing separating their noses from touching. She could even see her breath land on the glass. "If you come back and you catch me, I'll enjoy every moment of it too. Hell, I'll give you exclusive rights to be my executioner."

He didn't respond, and she could tell that her words infuriated him. His nose was flaring dangerously, and his ice blue eyes trying to glare daggers into her. But she stared gently back at him, daring him to do something, anything that would give her reason to push that little red button on the console and send him to his death. "It's a shame," he finally commented after what seemed like hours. He pulled away from her and walked back steadily to his bench, taking a seat.

Natasha held her breath, trying to not let herself feel curiosity tremble through her body as to what he could possibly mean with his words. Silver Tongue indeed. Unable to withstand the build up, she huffed. "What is?"

"That you are not from Asgard. Surely, we would have been the greatest of friends," he replied with an authoritative easiness that unnerved her.

"I'm not friends with monsters, and I doubt that I would have been if I came from where you do," she bit back.

"Agent Romanoff, you are a monster," he debated with a full smile, sending a shiver down her spine. "You have been since your birth. It is who you are. And monsters typically can only befriend monsters. People who can understand them."

"Are you saying that you understand me then?" she retorted, feeling her control over the situation slowly slipping from her grasp.

"I would say that I understand you better than most," he agreed with a nod. "Just as you regretfully understand my motives and passions better than most. I would daresay that you know me better than Thor. And I suspect that I know you better than Barton."

"That's not true," she snapped. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know that your childhood was taken from you," he started, and her breath caught in the back of her throat, tears already beginning to surface in her green eyes. "Always meant to serve a greater purpose. As was I. Happiness was never something that you were meant for. You were meant for the cold, harshness of life. In order for everyone else in the world to be happy, one, solitary, abandoned girl was sent to be forever tortured."

"And you're the one, solitary, abandoned boy of Asgard," she responded, quirking an eyebrow.

"See?" His smile widened. "You understand more than you think, Agent Romanoff. We are the same." He made a gesture between the two of them, and she could feel bile rise up to the back of her throat at the accusation. It felt as if she had just been stung.

"I'm nothing like you. You kill for power, for pleasure."

"And you don't?" he questioned. "Every murder you committed in that Red Room, it was all for standing, wasn't it? With every kill, you were revered, congratulated. Even now, you feel as if you sit on a throne of power, being the only mortal who could possibly trick me, a master of lies. You love watching the life drain out of someone's eyes. It is your name, is it not? The Black Widow? A woman who kills for the pleasure, for the euphoria that a passing spirit brings. It is rather fantastic, isn't it?" he mocked. "When their life is gone, you are there to sweep up all of that dead energy, just basking in it, aren't you?"

"Stop it," she barked, marching up to the console and letting her hand hover over the button.

"My words frighten you," he remarked, unfazed by her outstretched hand.

"Your words are lies. Just like all of your words. You don't know me," she repeated.

"Then prove to me that you don't feel pleasure after the kill," he challenged.

"I don't need to prove anything to scum like you. You, who compromises everything you touch. Even the most beautiful of things, you turn into a dark and mutated thing. You're a virus, just here to suck the joy and life out of anything that you can land on." She didn't let him retort, turning on her heel and walking out of the room, pressing her back against the wall once she had escaped.

Her heart was pounding in her ears, and her breaths were ragged as she thought of her conversation with the god. She had had the upper hand at the start, and she knew that her words were going to bother him for a good long while. Most of them probably weren't even true, but they were the words that got her point across. But the words that he had retaliated with… those words cut her deeply, carving out even more of her humanity. Did she really enjoy the kill?

"Tasha?" she heard, jumping and meeting the clear eyes of her partner. Of Barton. "What's wrong? What'd he do to you?" he growled, hand falling on the gun at his waist and looking like he was going to charge into the room and kill Loki.

"Nothing!" she replied, reaching out and holding onto his arm tightly. "It's my own fault. I went in there to provoke him."

Clint scoffed at her. "And how did that turn out for you?"

Natasha gulped and looked down at the floor. "Not as well as I would have liked. But I got my point across. I returned the favor."

Clint looked long and hard at her, quarreling with himself over the possibility that she was fine. She didn't look it by any means, but Natasha rarely ever looked fine anymore. Beautiful, always. But the thoughts that were in her head were tearing her apart, and it hurt him to see how she was, in essence, destroying herself. And there was nothing that she would let him do about the situation either. He could preach that he was always going to be there for her if she ever needed to talk about anything, but he knew that it would only fall on deaf ears. She would nod and say that she may take him up on that offer someday, but that someday was never going to come. Because Natasha Romanoff didn't take help from anyone. Not that kind of help anyway. Because she could handle it. She could do it by herself, and she was convinced that she could do it better than anyone else too. She didn't need help. But he had to try anyway. "If you need to talk about it, Natasha…" he started.

"I may take you up on that offer someday, Clint. But honestly. I'm fine," she stated, flicking a piece of red hair out of her face. "I'm going to take a shower, I think."

Clint nodded and watched her trump off towards her quarters with well calculated grace. She probably didn't even know that she did that anymore. Parts of her old life remained, too deeply ingrained for her to erase. Like her walk. The way her hips teasingly swayed back and forth, and how her legs were made to look like masterpieces with every stride.

Shaking his head, he barged into the cage room, immediately seeing a smile break out on Loki's face. "Agent Barton," he greeted.

"Stay the fuck away from her," he started.

Loki merely chuckled. "I do believe that she was the one who sought me out."

"Bull shit," Clint spat. "You've been playing her ever since this whole thing started. You just didn't put the scepter on her to make it official."

Loki chuckled again. "Is this love, Agent Barton?"

Clint struggled for a moment, trying to make his face impassive and indifferent, but he knew that the God of Lies very easily saw through the charade. "It's none of your business whatever the hell it is. Just know that if you come after her with any of your dirty tricks, I'm coming for you."

Loki's grin widened, making Clint shuffle nervously on his feet. "Oh, didn't you hear? She's given me exclusive rights to be the one who kills her for the monster that she is. Check the surveillance. You'll hear it loud and clear."

"You manipulated her words on the tape," he accused.

"In a cage?" Loki retaliated, gesturing to the small fortress.

Barton didn't seem to be able to come up with anything in retort, and he left, running a hand through his cropped his, frustrated.

Loki watched as the door closed behind the agent before taking his seat again. He had almost forgotten that this hadn't been the cage that he had been in once before. That one had no doubt been destroyed when he tried to send Thor to his death. A failed attempt.

He snarled as the thought emerged in his head, along with all of Romanoff's harsh, well calculated words. He failed at everything in his life. He failed at being a proper son of Odin, a brother to the magnificent Thor, a king of Asgard, a destroyer of a demonic race… He had even failed taking over one measly planet that was eons behind his own. He simply could not win. _You're going to lose. It's in your nature. _The other agent's words ripped through him, and it was then that he finally started to grasp the seriousness of the situation. It was his nature. Never before had he fairly won anything in his life, and he didn't suspect that that would happen now, already a millennia into his life. He would never win. Fate had already determined him to be the loser.

_The one, solitary, abandoned boy._

He frowned now, fighting the tears that started making their way behind his eyes. Perhaps he and the Widow were more similar than he had expected. Yes, he had tried to make her see all of the similarities in their lives, but now that he was alone with his thoughts, he really understood how much their lives were intertwined. Alone, tortured, devious, hidden.

Sentiment. What a foul word. Seemingly fouler when it applied to him. It made him sick.

Quick to dispense of the emotions tumbling through him, he focused his energy on a more chief situation. How to get out of here this time.

* * *

Steve Rogers was a soldier. Through and through. Made for taking commands and executing them to his fullest availability, even if it meant laying down his life for the cause.

But that didn't mean that he didn't worry, that he was oblivious to the turmoil that surrounded him on the job. He saw the anguish that Agent Barton was going through, saw how he looked like he was ready to explode out of his suit and put and arrow through someone's eye socket. But he remained quiet.

He noticed how Ms. Romanoff was secluded from the rest of the Avengers, sitting by herself in her room without moving, as if she were dead.

Everyone around him was joyous and relieved that Loki had been defeated with minimal damage, considering the evil. Everyone except the two agents, both absorbed in their troubles. What these troubles were exactly, he was unsure, as both were exceptional at masking their true feelings and emotions. He just knew that neither of them should be alone with those thoughts. Grieving over what was lost was not something to be grieved over alone. It was the quickest way to lose yourself in the pain.

With this in mind, he trudged to Natasha's sleeping quarters, knowing that she was in there. He had seen in on the cameras that seemed to be everywhere. He bravely knocked on the metallic door, not hearing a sound before the door swung open to reveal a tried looking woman.

"Cap?" she started, as if he was not the person that she had expected to see. "What are you doing here? Is it," she hesitated. "Is it Loki? Did he escape?" she turned on her heel, reaching for the skin tight cat suit hung on the wall.

"No!" Steve exclaimed catching her shoulders. "No, it's not that. Loki's still in containment. He's not getting out of there anytime soon either."

Natasha sighed and flicked a stray piece of hair out of her face before settling down on her bed. "Then why are you here?" she demanded in a tight voice.

"To see how you were," Steve replied carefully. "I know that losing Agent Coulson was not part of the plan, and it's okay to be upset over his death, but we need to move on now. He gave us that final push to ban together and save everyone."

"What are you talking about?" she asked curiously, looking rather confused as she gazed up at him with green eyes.

"Well, that's why you're secluding yourself from the others, isn't it? You're sad that Coulson is dead," he answered.

Natasha gulped and looked down at her hands on her lap. "Sorry to disappoint, Cap. I'm not one to grieve very much. Not like this anyway. I didn't even know him that well, besides. He was a great man, but… well, this isn't the first time that I've been around death. It doesn't faze me like it used to."

Steve took a step back, even more confused with her answer. "Then why are you upset?"

"I'm not," she replied readily, flashing him a breathtaking smile that made him blush. "I just can't believe that we won. The odds were so against us, and we won." She laughed quietly. "Winning isn't something that I can ever get accustomed to. And I don't like to handle my reaction around people. Don't worry about me. I'm perfectly fine. You should get back to the party. I'm sure that you're missed. Maybe I'll join a little bit later. Maybe after a nap."

Steve nodded nervously before turning back to the door and leaving, giving her a smile as he left. Well, it was a relief to know that she was alright. That only left Barton to confront.

Natasha breathed out a shaky sigh as the door closed behind her fellow Avenger. He was such a gentleman, sweetly caring about the fact that she was distraught and even willing to come and try to cheer her up about it. And what had she done in response? She had done what she was best at. She had lied.

Her thoughts sourly turned to the caged god several floors beneath her. A god of lies. Of tricks, of everything that was remotely evil. She chuckled darkly. Maybe if she had been from Asgard, like he had mentioned, she would have been the Goddess of Lies. Because it was as he had told her, they were far too similar to each other. And the fact disgusted her. But it was true. She and Loki Laufeyson were the same. The only difference being that she was mortal, and a lousy mortal at that. She was already beyond her expiration date, and she was expected to live for perhaps a century longer, probably more. She couldn't even find a gray hair on her head.

She was an immortal mortal, and Loki was immortal.

* * *

**So, how did you guys like it? I'm a little iffy about how I portrayed Clint… I love him, don't get me wrong, but, like most BlackFrost stories, I think that he is going to need to be an antagonist. So, let me know! Thanks!**

**Love you all lots!**

** - Books**


	2. We are the Same

**I'm back! Yeah, you can't kill me just yet, fanfiction! I cannot tell you guys how giddy I got when I got the first couple reviews for this story. Thank you, **Guest, and NatashaRushman! **The happy dance I did was exceptionally shameful and detrimental to practically everyone around me at the time. So be proud of yourselves!**

**Disclaimer: I obviously do not own anything Marvel related. If I did, I wouldn't have to use fanfiction to make my dreams come true - just use the movies. :D**

**So, here we are, _We Are the Same..._**

* * *

Dr. Bruce Banner nervously wrung his hands as he sat around the round table, staring up at Director Nick Fury. He could feel the tugs on his brain as the Other Guy tried to take hold, pushing away the gentle scientist.

"Loki is first and foremost, a man of Asgard," Thor stated from his seat calmly. "His actions must first be tried there before he is brought to any sort of justice here on Earth. The tortures that the Allfather comes up with may be worse than anything imaginable here."

"Are you suggesting that we let him off the hook for the crap he's pulled?" Barton interrupted, looking like a statue, but Banner could very easily see the whirlwinds of anger flaring up in the agent's eyes. It was a look that Banner had become very well acquainted with in his lifetime.

"I do not understand the relativity a hook has to this situation…" Thor replied tersely, staring at the archer carefully.

"It means that he wouldn't be tried for his crimes here at all. We would just rely on your people doing the job well enough for both worlds," Banner answered, trying to diffuse the tension that was starting to build in the room. It had been days since the Manhattan attack, and he felt as if he had a much better control over the Other Guy now that he had had his chance to strut like Tony had suggested. But that didn't mean that he was willing to take any chances.

Thor pondered this for a moment before looking thoughtfully at Barton. "Yes, then. That is what I am suggesting. My father is likely to ban Loki from ever returning to Midgard, so you would not even be granted an opportunity to punish him."

"His offenses were against our home!" Tony burst out. "Why shouldn't be tried for the crap he's pulled here? Unless he left a big mess out of your house, I think that we ought to have a few swings at the guy! An eye for an eye. No offense, Fury." The Director waved his hand away, too focused on the task at hand to get bristled about the comment.

"You may think that, but that is not the case here," Thor retorted, folding his arms and looking across the table defiantly at the much smaller man, threatening him with a glare.

"My home is in shambles!" Tony continued.

"And he is a god," Thor spat. "You have no right."

"What about the Cube?" Steve interrupted. "What is being planned regarding it?"

"We still need it for Phase 2," Fury stated with a sigh.

"Over my dead body," Tony growled. "That thing has already caused enough trouble as it is, and your plan is to try to make weapons of mass destruction with it?"

"I agree with the man of iron here," Thor commented. "The Tesseract is to return to its rightful home in Asgard. With Loki and me," he decided.

"Something tells me that leaving that man with a thing with that much power isn't exactly the best of ideas at the moment," Barton pointed out. "Loki could get it back at any time."

"You doubt the protection of Asgard?" Thor asked skeptically. "You, who was not even able to protect his own mind from him, and you dare claim that we are unworthy of this task?"

"Thor, I don't think that he meant any disrespect," Steve breathed, stepping in between the two of them. "He's just worried." He paused and looked at the rest of the Avengers. "We all are. We just came out of a war, and we are all very nervous that we could fall right back into one if specific precautions aren't taken. You understand."

"It wouldn't be your war, anyways," Thor complained, sitting back down with a loud thud that shook the large table. "Asgard would not take kindly to having mortals fight for us."

Natasha sighed and looked dutifully at the wall, in Loki's general direction anyway. Even after the war, Loki caged up in S.H.I.E.L.D's quarters, he was still causing mischief amongst them all. Probably reveling in the angry shouts that he no doubt was listening to at that moment.

Without another word, she stood from her seat, abandoning the heaps of testosterone in the room, without being noticed by even Nick's ever watchful eye and Steve's concerned stare. She heaved another sigh as the door to the conference room closed behind her, moving arrogantly to Loki's quarters, a scowl set in her porcelain face.

Loki was staring right at the door this time, as if he knew that she would come to see him. "Agent Romanoff." The falseness of his surprise was easily detected by her, and she allowed her scowl to deepen. "What brings you here? Aren't your teammates in the midst of a very invigorating conversation at the moment? I would think that you of all people would not want to be," he scoffed, "as the humans say it, 'out of the loop.' Or am I mistaken?"

"What are you doing to them?" she demanded, wasting no time in stalking up to the cage.

His evil grin widened as he stared down at her, basking in the fact that he easily towered over her small frame. "I have no idea what you speak of. Speak plainer."

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. They're screaming at each other in there!" she yelled. "Don't tell me that you have nothing to do with it either. I won't buy it."

"I didn't suspect that you would," he replied tragically. "But no. I don't have anything to do with your men's anger. Perhaps you should just accept that all men of your realm are nothing but attention seeking whores and are all unwilling to have anything not go their way."

"Somewhat like you, right? Tell me, are people from Asgard always this needy?" she bantered, folding her arms. "Your brother's got the spotlight fever. Is it a family thing?" she mocked.

Loki shrugged indifferently. "Why else are you here, Agent?" he asked, changing the subject. "I give you my word that their quarreling is no result of mine. As you've been quite eager to prove, I am utterly powerless here."

"Not before," she reminded.

"That was just my team picking up on the scepter's flares," he excused easily. "Your arguing in fact, is what caused the flare…"

"Is that a threat?"

"And who would be coming to my rescue now? I thought that you were smarter than that," he stated, and she could have sworn that the smile on his face was actually a genuine one, and that frightened her more than his cunning smile. The fact that a monster like him could ever actually be truly happy scared the crap out of her. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you here?"

Natasha's breath caught in the back of her throat as she sat underneath those ice blue eyes. She felt as if he was torturing her with the glare, making her writhe. "I don't know," she admitted warily, casting her eyes down to the floor. "I shouldn't be here," she said quietly, more to herself than to him.

Loki surprisingly didn't respond to her answer, simply nodded and took his regular seat on the bench. She could feel his stare trying to penetrate her defenses, but she held her gaze down at the floor.

They sat like that for what seemed like hours, and it wasn't until her ear-bud rang to life with Clint's voice seeping in, asking her where she had gone. She rolled her eyes, unimpressed at this, knowing that he very well could have looked at one of the many security cameras that they had around the ship, especially in Loki's room.

"I'm fine," she replied, holding her hand to her ear.

"Just tell me where you are," he continued.

"Why? Have you reached a consensus?" she breathed with boredom, chancing a glance at Loki who looked mildly interested in her current conversation.

"I'd rather not tell you over this," he answered. "Just meet me on the deck in five minutes." She could tell that he was done with the discussion, probably already making his way over to the deck, waiting for her to arrive.

She stood from her seat, looking at the god one last time before turning to leave.

"He is not the smartest of your clan, is he?" Loki guessed, his voice shocking her for a brief moment. "Even I am equipped with the Earthen knowledge that he could have looked through any of the glass portals to see where you were."

Natasha was glad she wasn't facing him when he said that, because a smile broke out across her face before she had the chance to stop it. "They're called cameras," she informed him, turning around with remnants of her grin on her face still. "Not glass portals."

Loki's smile widened, and he even chuckled. "I know," he replied. "I just wanted to see how you would react."

"Good reaction?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Would have preferred to see the full smile, but I will take what I can get," he answered, a glimmer in his blue eyes that she had trouble placing.

She shook her head in amusement, stopping at the door to look at him. "Thank you. For your cooperation," she told him, closing the door behind her before he had a chance to reply.

As soon as the door closed, her grin widened once again.

"What are you smirking about?" Tony approached her, looking confused and left out of a joke. He looked at Loki's door before looking at her a little more carefully. "Guy didn't touch you with his stick, did he?" She rolled her eyes, knowing that Tony was very well aware of how that came out. "I mean, I've never really touched it, I guess, but it seemed pretty hard and unforgiving when he tried to touch me with it. Failed attempt though."

"Shut up, Stark," she said lazily. "I need to get to the bridge to talk to Agent Barton. He says that you guys have come up with a consensus on what to do with Loki."

"Yeah, how'd you get out of there without any of us seeing?" he suddenly asked. She merely gave him a dubious look until a realization dawned on his face. "Black Widow. Right."

"Well, since you're here, you wanna just tell me what your marvelous plan is?" she questioned, folding her arms.

"You don't want Legolas to tell you?"

"You're here. Time saving," she replied simply. She met his eyes steadily, not allowing any room for doubt to pop into his head. God knew what would happen when Tony Stark got his hands on a juicy rumor. She certainly didn't want to find out.

"Thor's taking him and the Tesseract back with him to Asgard," Tony finally told her. "Thinks that Reindeer Games can find the true meaning of brotherly love or of Christmas, I forget. Kinda tuned out after a while. I was bored."

"I was in the room for that suggestion," she mentioned, brows furrowing together. "You guys argued for…" She checked her watch. "an _hour_ and then decided on a plan that had been suggested _five minutes _into the discussion?"

"That's what happens when you've got six alpha males in the same room."

Natasha sent him a sly glance. "So Thor ended up making all of you his bitches?"

"No!" the billionaire denied, looking horrified, and then thoughtful as he considered the implications. "Golden Boy didn't make any of us his bitches."

"Or were you just too short to make him change his mind?" she continued to mock. "Probably looked right over you."

"You hurt me, Red," Tony complained clutching the arc reactor in his chest in fake pain. Natasha simply laughed at his pain, walking away to meet up with Clint on the bridge.

"Took you a little more than five minutes," he mused as she climbed up the stairs, meeting him by the giant windows overlooking the sea.

"Stark caught up to me," she excused, not wanting Clint to know that she had been standing outside of Loki's door smiling like an idiot. "And he told me the plan, by the way."

"Do you approve?" Clint asked, looking at her and waiting for her reaction.

Natasha shrugged. "I wasn't there to agree or disagree with whatever you boys came up with. My opinion shouldn't be crucial. And it would seem that the majority has already agreed on the plan anyway, so my opinion would be irrelevant."

"Just tell me what you think, Nat," Clint pleaded.

"I think it's a good plan," she finally responded. "Thor knows his brother better than anyone." _I would daresay you know me better than Thor. _Loki's words crossed her mind before she the chance to stop it, and she immediately regretted it. "Thor would know how to handle his brother, and the Tesseract is theirs anyways. We had no business with it."

"You aren't at all concerned that Loki could find a way to escape and take the Tesseract with him?" Clint rounded.

Natasha pondered that for a moment. _We are the same. _Would she want to reuse the Tesseract's power for another plan for world domination? "No, I'm not," she said with clarity. "Loki has a thing for theatrics, and doing the same play twice is not a sure way to get him an Oscar nomination. It's a go big or go home thing for him."

Clint looked like he was rethinking her words. He finally shook his head firmly in denial. "I don't care what his play is. I just don't want the damn thing around him period."

"Where else would you have it? It can't be here on Earth. Look at what it's done to us already. This thing was around when Steve was going against HYDRA. Everyone who has encountered this technology on Earth has done nothing but destroy with it. It can't be here. Therefore, the best place for it, would be with Thor. With all of his other sacred relics that haven't been stolen in _thousands_ of years."

"Yes, but you forget that this Casket of Winters or whatever was almost stolen just this year, and Loki got his hands on the Tesseract."

"When the Tesseract was here within S.H.I.E.L.D quarters, Clint. Trust me, this is the best thing that we can do. I couldn't care less about what happens on Asgard, but I would feel safer knowing that that thing wasn't here within some son of bitch's reach," she retorted.

"You never feel safe, Nat," Clint reminded her with a chuckle.

She had to acknowledge that fact. It was true. She couldn't remember the last time that she ever truly felt safe. Not even when she was a child. Everywhere she had turned, there were nothing but threats, murderers, and suicidal missions. Death had been knocking on her door for her entire life, and somehow hadn't kicked down the door just yet.

What would it be like to feel safe? The soldier in her hated the thought, thinking that it would be filled with nothing but immense boredom and lack of adventure. She needed the adrenaline pumping through her veins, and she needed Death at her heels. How else could she suspect to really live? It was the extravagant, dangerous lives that were the most entertaining to lead. She had become cultured in this life, being a deeper soul than what most people would expect from a pretty face like hers. But the other part of her, the woman, she supposed, craved that peace that came with safety. Never having to worry about anything other than taxes. An apple pie life. Where she could settle down and not have to worry about the dozens of mercenaries on her tail. She could enjoy life, breathe in the free air. Not have to change her name so often to stay off the grid. Maybe have a family…

"I suppose not," she murmured. Whatever her deepest desires were, she didn't have a choice now. It was sink or swim in her life, and she had to deal with the cards she had been dealt. True, it was probably one of the shittiest hands ever, but it was the hand that she had. And she wasn't the kind of girl to fold under pressure and let her opponent get all the winnings. She had to fight. She had to manipulate everyone into thinking that she had good cards, and that she was happy with them.

"Stark tell you when Loki's being shipped off?" Clint asked lightly, looking out over the Atlantic. If he saw her battling her inner thoughts, he didn't comment. She merely shook her head. "He leaves at the end of the week. Apparently, Thor's got a girlfriend here that he wants to visit before he goes back to Asgard. Who knew?" Clint chuckled. "A god and a mortal. Sounds like something you would here out of a storybook for kids. Talk about your long distance relationships. Wonder how long that's going to last."

Natasha frowned as she considered Clint's information. She had read that Thor had become rather well acquainted with the astrophysicist, Jane Foster, but she hadn't been aware that there was a romantic chemistry between the two. "I thought that Thor was supposed to end up with Sif, like in the myths," she commented.

"Apparently not," Clint replied. "But can you imagine it? A god with a mortal? What happens when she dies? Or when she looks old enough to be his mother?"

Natasha shook her head. "With the kind of lives that we lead, I think that if we miraculously find any kind of joy along the way, we should try to hold onto it for as long as possible. Just as long as it doesn't jeopardize the mission. And it seems that his attachment to her didn't kill the chances of a good result the last time he was here. In fact, it made him a better person and a better ruler."

"Also on account of Loki," Clint added.

She glared up at Clint, silently fuming. Granted, she hated Loki just as much as any of them, but that didn't mean that she wanted to hear about the tragic flaws of the enemy every other minute. _We are the same. _She certainly hoped that there weren't people bashing her every other moment with one of her many bad qualities. Though she liked to think that she didn't care what they thought, she knew that she did, and it hurt her to know that someone could ceaselessly be that cruel. "Would you stop bringing him up?" she snapped, holding her glare.

"Why? You on his side now like Thor?"

"I'm not on his side!" she growled. "You know damn well I'm not! Look what he did to you! But I don't want to hear about that miserable sack of bones every other moment. You weren't the only one that he hurt, and maybe with you bringing him up as often as you are, you're doing a little bit more than disgracing him!" She held her ground as he glared down at her.

"What'd he do to you?" he demanded to know.

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me, Clint," she retorted. "It wouldn't even be about getting back at him for me. Just about you getting your sweet revenge and being able to put an arrow through his eye socket. You would use me just to get back at him!"

"I can't believe that you're not jumping on the 'Torture Loki Bandwagon.' You're mad that I would be using you?" he regarded, his brown eyes squinting in disbelief as he tried to comprehend where she was coming from.

An animalistic growl ripped through her throat. "I've been used my whole life, and I've hated every fucking minute of it. You know that. So what the hell makes you think that I would be okay with you using me to win back some masculinity?!"

"He used you, didn't he?" Clint yelled. By now, they had claimed the attention of the other agents on the bridge, and Steve and Bruce came shuffling through the herds of people, coming to the other two agents' sides. Steve grabbed onto Natasha's shoulder, imploring her with his calm blue eyes to relax before making a greater scene.

She wanted to shake him off, to push him away and hit Clint with everything in her. But she wouldn't. Not here at least.

Bruce was clapping Clint's back sympathetically, urging him away from the scene and talking about something that she couldn't hear.

"Not to enthusiastic about the plan, I guess?" Steve supposed, raising an eyebrow at her.

"No, he's the one who isn't enthusiastic," she bit back. "He's just upset that things didn't turn out the way he had planned."

"Hey, he's gone now, so no use being mad at me," Steve soothed, placing both hands on her shoulders now and bending slightly to look at her. "Are you okay? Really? I mean, last night, you said that you were just surprised that we had won, but…"

"But what, Steve?" she snapped, shoving his hands off of her and giving him a glare of her own.

"This doesn't seem like that…" he finished, looking embarrassed. She stayed silent. "Okay, you don't have to tell me. I didn't want to make you feel like you had to, but I think that you should talk to someone. This can't be healthy. Having all of these emotions going through you right now. Maybe talk it through with Thor? He's a nice guy. Or Dr. Banner? He's very understanding -"

"Steve, I appreciate what you're trying to do for me right now, but if you continue to talk down to me like that, I may have to hit you," she stated bluntly.

Steve sighed, looking like he was just about to give up. It was then that he tightly grabbed her arm, squeezing it to the point where her hand started turning blue. She would definitely have a bruise there if her body didn't heal faster than most. "Fine then. If you don't tell someone how bad it really is, I'll kick your ass. Just because I'm from the forties doesn't mean that I won't either. I don't want to, but if you leave me with no other choice, then fine. We can't afford you to be caught up in crappy emotions. For someone who thrives off of the mission's success, I would have thought that you knew that already."

Natasha blinked her surprise away, watching as Steve abandoned her on the bridge with her thoughts. The other agents continued to stare up at her with concern plastered on their faces. She made quick to glare at each of them before fleeing the room herself, anxious to be away from the prying eyes of S.H.I.E.L.D agents.

Briefly, she thought of returning to Loki's room, even if it was just to sit in silence with him as they had done earlier. Though he was a pain in the ass the majority of the time, she had to admit that it felt nice to be in the company of someone who didn't feel it necessary to always make conversation. Others were scared of those awkward silences, but not him. It was as if she hadn't been in the room with him at all, which actually felt… relieving. It was strange to think that someone could so easily welcome others ignoring them, but after a whole lifetime of having everyone's eyes on her, it was nice to just blend in with the common folk. Even if he wasn't so common.

She shook her head furiously, cursing her jumbled and incomprehensible thoughts. Why the hell would she want to be anywhere near Loki right now? He was the one who caused a huge rift between her and her best friend, killed a good man with a wicked grin, and had caused so much mental torment that she had forgotten how to compose herself. He was the last man on Earth she should ever be wanting to spend quality time with. He was a monster, and he killed hundreds of innocent people and…

_We are the same._

Damn him for ever breathing those four words to her. It had been his endgame all along, she was sure. Attack her where it hurts. She called him a monster, so he had to call her one right back. Except his retort was so much better than anything she could ever hope to come up with. Because now, every insult that she could possibly think of to snap at him, it would reflect right back on her, making her a monstrous hypocrite with an endless amount of red on her ledger.

Nevertheless, she felt that gentle pull of her body as it tried to walk back to him, and before she knew it, the poorly designed metallic doors were greeting her sparkling green eyes, daring her to come inside and behold the caged god.

She tried with everything in her to brush the thought away, to ignore the urge to go in there and unload all of her problems, even if it meant that he would make fun of her for it. She had already spent too much time with him today, and that was plenty.

Chanting that thought desperately in her head, Natasha left the door to go and find her room, throwing herself unceremoniously down on her bed. Her red curls flopped around her, making a pool of red flame on the white sheets. Her black cat suit stuck out like a sore thumb, making her unbelievably uncomfortable. Even in the privacy of her bedroom, she still felt uneasy, and it worried her.

What had Loki done to her?

Quick to resolve her problem, she divested all of her clothes and took a bath, letting the heat of the steaming water relax away all of the tension in her muscles. S.H.I.E.L.D had never taken to indulging in the finer things, and she was stuck with the plain smelling soaps, typically only having a fresh kind of scent going for it. Occasionally, she would get lucky and find a vanilla scented shampoo, and this is what she found waiting for her today.

Grinning at the one bright part of her day, she scrubbed at her scalp, massaging the tresses until the smell of vanilla was everywhere.

After her bath, she lay down on her bed in her nightgown, staring up at the ceiling, her hand buried underneath one of her pillows where she had a gun stashed in case of emergency.

Would Loki like vanilla?

Natasha laughed at the thought, wondering why she would ever think of such an outlandish question. Even if he did, there was no possible way that he would be able to smell it on her from inside the cage. Not like that mattered. He probably was the kind of guy who enjoyed the smell of blood on his women, and that was something that definitely didn't come in a beautifying product. At least not in America. She didn't think that even Russia had been that extreme.

She climbed underneath the covers, staring at her door now as she tried to snuggle into the unfitting mattress. Her green eyes closed with determination, eager to keep the god out of all crevices of her exhausted mind.

Sleep was decidedly against her that night, her mind falling into dark and treacherous dreams. Dreams of a certain Asgardian, towering over her small form and declaring her to be a monster, stating to everyone in the Division that they were the same, that she had killed and stole, all for money. She had been corrupt. And all the while, she was powerless against him, allowing him to clutch her wrist in a vice like grip and yanking on her curly red hair until it carpeted the metal flooring of the vessel. She would bathe in her blood while he drowned in her screams, laughing maliciously all the while.

Natasha awoke with a start, sweat pouring down the sides of her face, hands powerfully shaking as she tried to regain control of her emotions.

It had been so long since she had dreamed, and never before could she remember a dream that felt that real and terrifying. Most dreams had been bad, yes; with a past like hers, it could only be expected. But she had always known that she had been dreaming, taking comfort in the fact that she would wake up and everything would be fine again. The pain, the torture, it would all be gone in mere moments.

But not this dream. This dream tore at her in every way imaginable, and she couldn't say she was very surprised when she felt salty tears join the sweat on her face as she recalled the fierceness of the dream. The pain she had felt as his nails had dug into her wrist and how some of the chunks of hair scattered on the floor were coated in her blood. Everything had hurt! And he had laughed, enjoying her pain, eager for the moment where he would get to end her life. Just like she had said he could.

Her eyes widened at that thought, and she could feel her heart rate accelerate dramatically. She had told him that she would let him be the one who would get to kill her. Why had she done that? He wouldn't be the type of person to back down from an opportunity like that, especially where she was concerned. Something told her that he hadn't enjoyed very much being beaten as his own game - revenge would be sweet for him.

Shaking her head clear of these thoughts, she leaped out of her bed, finding her green robe and tying it tightly around her. Natasha exited her room with silence, her bare feet as quiet as the rest of her as she glided over to his room.

Wasting no time in pleasantries, she entered the room, closing the door behind her. There he was, appearing as if he was asleep, sitting stoically on his bench with his head tilted back, eyes closed. The scar on his nose from the war had healed, and his face looked at ease and clean. Handsome even, angular and sharp, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin.

Why was she here? It seemed like a question that she often asked herself whenever she entered his room. And truthfully, she never really had a good answer, not even for herself. She could sit in silence by herself; why did she need him there?

"You're making a habit of this, Agent Romanoff," his cool voice croaked from misuse. His eyes remained closed, and if she hadn't seen his thin lips move to speak to her, she would have supposed that she had imagined his voice in her head. "You should be sleeping, according to mortal behavior."

Natasha remained quiet, taking her chair. "Even us mortals have trouble sleeping sometimes," she finally replied, letting her posture slouch against the hard railing. "Do you not sleep?"

"What seems to be the trouble?" He ignored her question. "Nightmares?"

Her breath caught in the back of her throat, and she looked down into her lap, seeing the cream of her nightgown peeking out from underneath her emerald green robe.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

**So, there is the next chapter! I hope you guys like it! I must say that I am kinda worried that I went a little out of character with some of them. I'm not sure that Natasha would allow herself to lose her cool like that in front of everybody, but my reasoning is that Clint is continuously getting on her nerves as of late, and she doesn't seem like a person who is okay with cry-baby mode. Again, I LOVE CLINT, so don't be mad. I would kill to be able an archer as good as him.**

**And we're seeing a little romance between our two favorite characters! If you can call it romance, I guess. I'm not really sure.**

**Leave a review if you feel so inclined. They make me so super happy, and you guys are the ones that I'm trying to please, and I wanna do a good job at that. :D**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**

**P.S. Let me know about the length. This one is significantly longer than the last one. You guys like it long or like it short? I'm at your service. **


	3. A Midnight Chat

_**CHAPTER 3 - A Midnight Talk**_

**I'm back! I forgot to mention in the previous chapter, Merry Christmas! I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday and that they got everything they wanted. I know that I got quite lucky with getting the Iron Man movies, so that has consumed a portion of my life right there. I almost have every single one of the Marvel movies now, so that's something to be excited about.**

**I'm still a little concerned about my characters, so if you guys could please give up like two minutes of your lives and tell me, that would make my life. Seriously. But don't feel like I'm demanding it! I've always hated it when authors do that, and, heh, I've been accused once or twice, and I would hate to be a accused again. So, as always, leave a review if you feel so inclined. :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Marvel, including Loki. I've got that thought as a constant reminder so need to tell me! I've cried enough already. ;)**

Loki slowly opened his eyes, a brief moment of shock encompassing his angular features as he beheld the woman in his presence. She was currently looking down at her lap, but that wasn't anywhere near the places he had been looking. Her pale skin looked like snow against the shiny, emerald material covering her voluptuous body. Gods, she looked amazing in green. Her long, majestic legs were laid bare for him to gaze upon, infinitely long, even by Asgardian standards, and the sight made him swallow in appreciation. He could see a tiny bit of cream colored silk peeking out shyly from underneath the flashy green, ending mid-thigh. His eyes trailed up to her breasts shamelessly, frowning only a little at how well they were blanketed under the tightness of the robe.

He looked away from her now, anywhere but at her. He was a god, and a powerful one at that. But that didn't mean that for one second, he couldn't be insanely attracted to the redhead in front of him.

"Well?" he croaked, lust oozing out of the singular word.

"Nightmares," she affirmed. "Like you said." If she noticed his attraction, she didn't mention it, which he was grateful for.

"And you thought that being in here with your biggest nightmare would chase the other horrors away?" he supposed, chancing a quick glance at her, noticing how she was staring at him curiously.

"Are you alright?" she asked, standing from her seat and coming to stand close to the glass. Well, there goes that comfort, he mused darkly.

"Why would I not be?" he retorted, still avoiding looking at her as if she were the plague.

"Well, typically you would've insulted twenty different ways by now, but…" she trailed off.

Loki sighed and shook his head, bringing himself to meet her green eyes. It was as he had pointed out to himself. He was a god, and if there was anyone who had control over his emotions and his mask, it was him. "Would you believe me if I said that I am weary and wish to sleep?"

Natasha shrugged. "I guess I could believe that. Too bad I don't care."

"I am not under orders that force me to talk to you," he reminded.

"Yeah, but something tells me that you would have difficulty not listening. Orders or not," she parried with ease, giving him a smug look. He was almost beginning to wonder if she had reserved that look specifically for him; she used it on him so often.

"Are you planning on talking?"

Natasha shrugged once more. "I don't know. Why can't you sleep?" Her sudden change in the subject made him curious, and he only answered her a stare of his own, noticing the blush begin to creep up her chest and neck and into her cheeks. "Right, you're not talking to me."

Loki couldn't stop the chuckle from erupting from his lips, deciding that it wasn't worth the effort to stay quiet with her. He would talk. "Why don't you relay your nightmare, and I will describe why I am unable to sleep?"

"You first," she demanded instantly, sitting back down. He could see excitement fall on her supple features just before suspicion took its place. "I don't trust you to hold up your end of the deal," she explained gently.

Loki smirked at her. "You really do understand me too well, Agent Romanoff."

"Just call me Natasha," she interrupted. "Agent Romanoff is such a mouthful after a while."

He dipped his head in acknowledgment. "As you wish. _Natasha." _He went silent then, pondering if he should even begin to tell her of his troubles. Troubles that centered mainly on his family, Thor in particular. Thor's general description of his pain probably was exceedingly biased and untrue. How could his adopted brother even begin to comprehend the kind of torment the younger god endured? "Surely, you know well of my tale," he began, deciding that it was worth the risk. If there was anyone who would able to properly understand his pain, it would surely be the woman sitting across from him.

"Thor said that you aren't Asgardian. You're something called a Frost Giant," she supplied, looking more and more curious and almost relieved that he was actually talking with her.

Loki scoffed with a smile. "And what more am I than that?"

"I don't follow." She frowned.

"Were those the only words that Thor used to describe my unnatural situation to you and your team?" he rephrased.

Natasha's brows furrowed for a moment as she continued to stare at him. "Is there more?"

Here, Loki actually laughed, a sound that had once been so foreign to his body that the sound shocked him as much as it did her. "Is it so hard to believe that gods are capable of emotion? That perhaps, I once acknowledged my difference to my home before I knew the truth? That I knew that I could never be like the others. I didn't have what the others did." His laughter died away, his throat closing tightly instead, trying to choke him. "But I was Odinson. I was Asgardian."

Realization dawned on her becoming face, and she slowly nodded. "Your whole life was a lie," she breathed. "You felt… betrayed."

"That's not even half of it. Not only was I not of the realm, but I was a prince of monsters, creatures that terrorized every other realm in the universe. Asgardian children running in the streets, pretending to be slaying my kind, and babes crying out at the mere thought of giant blue beings no doubt coming to eat them for breakfast. A God of Lies, and my whole life was a sham. Tell me, how would you consider your self-worth after learning of such information?"

"I don't have to imagine my reaction," she murmured. "I know what that feels like." She paused, and he could see how desperately she tried to mask the anguish she was experiencing. "Is that why you can't sleep?" she finally asked.

"Pondering all of life's greatest mysteries, yes," he agreed with a swift nod.

"You are to return to Asgard by the end of the week. With Thor," she mentioned. "And the Tesseract," she added after a moment.

"Why so long?"

"Seems that Thor has grown a certain fondness to a particular woman here," she explained lightly with the tiniest trace of a smile, as if the thought of "childish" love gave her joy. "He wished to spend some quality time with her before he had to leave. Apparently, coming and going to and from Earth is not a very easy trip, as he explained to me."

"With the Tesseract's energy, they will be able to reconstruct the Bifrost, I assume. And then Thor can come and go as he pleases."

"And that means that you will be able to do that too?"

Loki chuckled. "I highly doubt that my punishment will spare that much free will. I suspect that I will never be able to return to Midgard."

"Is that sadness I'm hearing?" she teased, her happy grin suddenly turning wicked in nature.

"You trust me around the Tesseract?" he repeated, unwilling to truly share that he did indeed feel the slightest bit of sadness at the thought of leaving. Before, he hadn't given a care about Midgard and all of their measly forms of science. However, after seeing the strength and determination that these Avengers carried, stupidly going up against such a formidable force with the thought that there could be no possible victory… It was refreshing to see that kind of passion resurface. Asgardians had grown old and weary of grand adventures, simply living through the ancient stories instead of creating new ones.

Then there was also the matter that there wasn't a Natasha Romanoff in Asgard, and he had regrettably found her company rather stimulating, if not enjoyable. But he would never admit that aloud to her. He couldn't give her that kind of satisfaction.

"Your brother seems certain that you will feel remorse," she muttered.

"I did not ask regarding my brother's beliefs. I asked of yours," he chimed, watching her carefully as he saw her trying to construct a good response to his question.

"I doubt that someone like you would feel remorse this soon after the attack," she started bravely. She had to know that she was treading on dangerous ground, yet she answered with her honest opinion anyways. He almost had to respect her for that. "It took me years to even acknowledge the blood on my hands. And even more years to begin to feel guilt over the lives that I ended. And I'm human. More or less. For someone like you, my years could take a century."

"A very diplomatic answer, but again, not addressing the question."

"For someone like you, someone who enjoys theatrics," she paused. "I don't think that you would reuse the same material for your next world domination performance."

"And why would you think this? You do not think that I fear the Cube's power, do you?"

"Of course not," she hurried. "It's just not what I would do if I were you."

Loki arched an eyebrow. "A threat?"

"Not a threat. A fact. You'll use something else the next time you want to take over a planet. Because the old stuff has officially bored you, and you are all about the new methods, right?"

Loki pondered the thought, rather how easily she was able to come up with the conclusion that he and the Tesseract would no longer be a part of hostile relations. It was true, too. He had never intended to recycle the Cube. Too predictable. And too easily fought against apparently.

"What was your nightmare?" Loki asked nervously, eager to change the subject. He could not have her know that she had been correct in her assumptions. She was quiet for a while, debating on telling him, it seemed, afraid of his reaction. "Come now, I told you my troubles. It seems only fair that you hold up your end of the bargain and speak of yours."

She glared at him in response, something that made him grin wickedly. That was the Natasha he had met, the ruthless one who so vehemently despised him. "It was you, actually," she finally stated. Even he could not have predicted her words, and upon hearing them, his blue eyes widened in surprise, and he stared imploringly at her. It didn't shock him necessarily that she had nightmares of him and his tyranny, but it did astound him that she would actually venture to go into detail with him, her tormentor, about the horrors she had experienced at his dream hands.

"I never would have assumed that you would so willingly divulge my dream me's methods of torture. Could come in handy one day," he mocked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"If you have already been inside of Barton's mind, then it doesn't matter," she excused. "You already know what I fear. You said that you would make Barton kill me this way, don't you remember?" She paused. "And I didn't even tell you anything about what you did." Loki said nothing, wondering if he had pushed too far.

Every time she visited him, he had to constantly remind himself that he truly hated this woman, the woman who ruined practically everything for him. He wanted to kill her, gut her, torture her. Everything remotely evil he could imagine, he wanted to happen to her at his hand. It didn't matter that they had built a bond of some sort. As soon as he got out of this cage, he would have her. She would trust him, and then he would kill her. And it would be fair. Because she had said that he could. Or so the mantra insisted on repeating in his skull.

"And I don't plan on telling you what you did, either. So don't get any ideas. That wasn't really the nightmare, anyways," she carried on. She surprised him yet again. "You think that I've never been in pain before? That I haven't been tortured? I've been tortured many times; pain is basically one of the only things that I can truly count on anymore. Been more loyal to me than Clint has occasionally." The last sentence was hushed, something that he could barely hear through the thick glass.

"Then what was the nightmare aspect of it, if I may ask?" he returned, eyeing her reaction.

"I realized that I had given you permission to be my executioner," she stated obviously. "In a moment of weakness, I gave you my life. And it kills me more than you know. So much so that I'm considering putting a bullet in my mouth and not giving you the chance." She let out a shaky breath, and it was the first time that he had ever seen her truly scared of something. Her controlled green eyes were wild and hectic, flicking to everything in the room but him. Her pale fingers twitched on her lap; her pulse flew under his eyes in the vein of her neck.

Loki shrugged as if her pain didn't stir emotion in him. But it did. Seeing someone as cool and calculating as her not in control, it almost made him worried. Because if she didn't feel confident, then there was nothing there to make him feel confident right back. "Would it please you if I gave you - what did you call it? - exclusive rights to be _my_ executioner?" The words escaped through his lips before he had a chance to recognize what they were, and upon exit, he wished that he could take them back and make her forget entirely about his words. What had he done? He gave the only person ever capable of defeating him permission to end him!

Her breathing slowed as she stared thoroughly at him, as if she was gazing into the depths of his Frost Giant soul. Her voice sounded as cool as ice as she made her reply, and he had to stifle a shiver, "You do realize that even if that is one of your lies, that will not matter to me?"

"Still intent on killing me?" he mocked lamely.

"Just as intent as you are on killing me," she answered. He grinned, enticed with the new aspect of the game. It could be interesting, he supposed. And undeniably fun and entertaining as well.

"What a game of cat and mouse this will be," he purred, drumming his fingers on his knee as he watched her, mesmerized by the way she tilted her head back in arrogance, staring right back at him. Even without the cat suit, she was intimidating, not to mention quite… arousing.

"You can be the mouse," she suggested, approaching the glass and putting her hand on it.

Loki sniggered. "Making you the kitten?" her drawled, coming to his side of the glass, putting his hand against hers. "Even I know Midgardian euphemisms to understand that reference." Through the green of his cage, he briefly saw red hasten through the revealed skin, but she continued to meet his gaze unflinchingly. "A woman with a skill set such as yours should be able to control her blushing moments better than that," he mused, allowing his gaze to shamelessly wander over her body, making sure that she was aware of it.

"How do you know that I'm not controlling it?" she retorted. "I could be wanting you to think that I'm that easy." She laughed, withdrawing her hand and returning to her chair, crossing her long legs flauntingly, smirking at the sight of him swallowing nervously. "You wouldn't know what to do with me if you got your hands on me."

"I highly doubt that theory," he retorted quietly, glad that she hadn't heard the comment. "So what now?" he questioned lightly.

Natasha stared back at him. "I don't know," she admitted.

"Why did you come to speak with me about this nightmare?" Loki wondered aloud. "When obviously, Agent Barton is infatuated with you entirely, and I'm sure that he would be more than willing to hear of your troubles."

She let out a dark giggle at the suggestion. "He'd come in here to threaten you without thinking twice about it." She shifted uneasily in her chair. "And he and I seem to be at an impasse currently and aren't exactly seeing things eye to eye."

"For what reason?" Loki continued, finding that he was actually interested in the conversation and wanted to know.

She furiously shook her head. "I've given up enough information tonight. Don't suspect anymore coming out of me. You would just pounce on the opportunity to divide the team up. Make it easier for you, I should think."

"And the last time I tried with such a venture, I ended up failing quite miserably at it," he reminded. "And that was when I had an army under my command, unlike now where I have no one. My current end of the world plans are nonexistent."

"Do you regret what you did?"

"Now, you already said that I wouldn't feel regret until centuries have passed," he mocked.

Natasha nodded in agreement. "Well, then do you feel as if you have acquired the intelligence to not attack our planet anymore? Since you failed so miserably at it the last time."

He scoffed in response. "A wise man bides his time after being beaten. It makes no sense to lash out in defeat; it simply makes one weaker and more desperate. And desperation is not always an advantage, rather a downfall."

"Fury was desperate when you attacked," she mentioned. "And we won."

"Fury had the proper resources."

"You had the Tesseract."

"Fury had the knowledge that I could not win."

"And you had enough arrogance to think that you would."

"Knowledge and arrogance are no where near the same thing."

"So, you admit that you were arrogant?"

"I admit that I was desperate," he snapped, glaring harshly at her, smirking ever so slightly at the sight of her recoiling in her seat from his tongue lashing. "I had just lost everything, and I was filled with rage and anger regarding my situation. I had been cast out from the only home that I had ever known and betrayed by those who had professed to love me. I just wanted vengeance, and I was willing to do whatever was necessary to achieve it. I wanted to hurt Thor where it hurt, and I knew that he was enamored with this puny little waste of space, so this is where I chose to make myself known." He paused. "This is how I know now that lashing out after defeat is unwise."

"I, um. I read your file," she stated nervously, suddenly looking ashamed. "You kinda betrayed your brother just as much as he betrayed you. Didn't you once profess to love him as well? You lied to him just to ensure that you would remain the King of Asgard. You cast him out, and you convinced him that he was no longer loved by his family." He was about to retort when she continued, "And that was before your whole dismissal from your home." Loki fell silent at this, unable to think of a proper response that would benefit him. How was it that this woman was able to render him speechless, his once silver tongue feeling like lead in his mouth. "Thor says that he tried to save you. From the rainbow bridge. That he never wanted you to die, or fall, I guess. He was willing to forgive to you for treating him the way that you did. Why, I don't really understand. I mean, if I was him, I think that I would have killed you myself. But he has such a fondness for the idea of family. He still thinks that you all can be one big happy family. He just wants his little brother back."

"He placed all of these thoughts in your mind," Loki growled, avoiding her gaze determinedly now. "If you honestly expect me to believe that my brother wishes to forgive me for what I have done -"

"Well, you know him better than anyone, right?" she countered. "You've spent your entire life with him by your side. I think you'd be pretty stupid if you haven't realized by now that he looks at you like a blood brother. Not an adopted brother."

"This conversation is over, Agent Romanoff," he snarled. "Stay if you wish, but do not expect me to speak with you."

Natasha frowned and stood. "Now you're just throwing a tantrum."

"Do not accuse a god of being a child. I am hundreds of years older than yourself."

"By Earthen standards, you're being what we call a cry-baby," she mocked. "Good night, Loki," she finished, leaving the room.

Her bed was cold by the time she returned to it, the pillows even reshaping themselves to their natural state. The digital clock on the bedside table read that it was three in the morning, two hours from the time her alarm would go off. Though the conversation with the god had seemed incredibly short lived, she had spent three hours in his room, talking with him.

Hanging her robe back on its stand, she climbed back into the bed, leaving the blankets at the foot of the bed. She didn't mind the chilliness of the atmosphere.

Her hand immediately traveled underneath her pillow, sighing with relief as she felt the cold metal of her gun greet her lithe fingers. The safety was on, as there had been occasions where she had accidentally pulled the trigger in the middle of a dream. Her index finger twisted around the crescent shape of the trigger, stroking it mechanically.

Her mind was elsewhere however, staring out at the door blankly. She saw the hurt flash across Loki's pale face as she berated him as if he was directly in front of her now. A part of him still wished for the approval of his family. For someone who so strongly loathed sentiment, he must feel it constantly when thinking of his family. Which, she ventured, was probably the majority of the time when he was left alone with his thoughts.

So, did that mean that she really was being a balm to him? Distracting him from thinking those destructive thoughts and giving him a reason to smile? The idea itself repulsed her, but at the same time, it brought her a sense of achievement. Her head disliked the fact that she was healing his mental scars. He should be left to be tortured by his past actions. He should be left to rot in his cell without the company of others and without the love that his brother so stupidly bestows upon him. Loki didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve anything by death, and her head felt giddy at the thought that he had given her permission to finish him off, even if it meant that he had the same permission. It was a game of chess, and she had lost her queen. But her sacrifice had made it so that he also lost his own queen, evening the board once again.

But her heart said something different. A muscle that she didn't normally involve in her missions, it was pleased by her charity. True, he didn't deserve her company, but she didn't deserve company either. They both had so much blood on their hands, and it was wrong to think that she was worthy of compassion. Being by Loki's side, even for a while, was a small way to repay the kindness that Clint showed her when she was locked away.

Clint had been the only person to give her a chance, to look beyond the red on her ledger and to comfort her when her emotions became too much to handle. Though the two agents were in the same profession, killing people for a living, he never suffered the anguish that she had. He had never been so brutally used that he had lost himself in the blood of his victims. He had pretended to understand, but he never could. Just like Thor would never be able to fully comprehend all of Loki's actions and feelings. But Natasha could. She could see past the mask that Loki insisted on wearing, and she could see the hurt and betrayal shining brightly in his eyes even at the mention of his brother.

For once, she was going to listen to the rhythmic thumping of her heart's advice. She would hate the God of Lies for all of her life, definitely, but she would be there for him. Because it was the only way to wipe the red out of her ledger.

A vicious knocking at her door startled Natasha out of her sleep, nearly making her fall out of her bed with surprise. The clock said 04:57. Three more minutes and the buzzing of her alarm would have sounded. Gritting her teeth, she climbed out of the bed, threw on her robe and approached the door, opening it swiftly to meet the Director.

Fury's one eye was calm, but the rest of his body suggested otherwise. He shifted to and fro on his feet, arms unsure if they wished to be crossed or at his side or on his hips.

"What's wrong?" she grumbled, blinking at the light from the hallway.

"The Cube has been stolen," he breathed. Her mouth fell open, looking for a response that simply would not come. "Agent!" he barked, snapping her out of her stupor. The alarm behind her started its daily buzzing, and she swept into action.

She turned around rapidly, shutting off the alarm and grabbing her suit, heading to bathroom and closing the door behind her.

"When?" she yelled through the door as she dressed.

"We're not sure. All we know is that the cameras went dark at 01:00 hours this morning and didn't come back on until 01:34. We had cameras trained on the Tesseract, but when the cameras came back on, it was gone. And none of the others cameras picked up anything that would suggest who the thief is."

"A S.H.I.E.L.D agent maybe?" she questioned, throwing open the door, running her fingers through her hair while also retrieving her gun from under her pillow, sheathing it at her side and grabbing the other gun from one of the drawers in her dresser.

"Like I said, we aren't sure."

"Have the others been informed?" she continued to ask.

"Agent Hill is rounding up Cap and Barton. You go get Thor and Banner. I've got Stark," he ordered, exiting the room.

Natasha nodded to the empty space and left to find Thor, intercepting him just as he left his room. "Lady Romanoff," he addressed, surprised. "Whatever is the matter?" The wide smile quickly disappeared from his face as she described the robbery to him. "Can never have one moment's peace, can I?" he spoke softly, mostly to himself.

"Go to the conference room. I'm getting Banner," she ordered, seeing him nod and head back into his room, soon coming out in his proper Asgardian garb with Mjolnir, giving her another nod before leaving for the conference room.

She breathed deeply as she came up on Banner's room, knocking as politely and as urgently as she could. Natasha had no idea how he could react, and she did not want to upset him and have another catastrophe like the last time he transformed on the Helicarrier.

"I know," he started as he opened the door with a small smile. "I kinda have a receiver in here that I hooked up to Fury when he wasn't looking."

"Well then, you should be in the conference room with everybody else," she commanded, feeling relieved that she wasn't going to have to be the one to break the news to him.

"So, it's really gone?" he asked as they walked swiftly to the room, Banner almost having to jog to keep up with her longer strides. "The Tesseract?"

Natasha nodded. "I don't have all of the facts yet, but yes. That's what Fury told me."

"Do you think that it could be Loki?" Banner suggested meekly.

She stopped abruptly in her stride, Banner charging ahead of her until he realized she had stopped. He turned back to her, looking confused and concerned. "No," she stated with finality. "No, he wouldn't go for the Cube again. He likes theatrics," she informed. But even now, there was a slight feeling of weightlessness as she pondered the notion. Could he have done it? No, that was impossible.

Banner appeared to be sympathetic, his warm brown eyes soothing and comforting her. "We should get there before they get too angry without us."

Natasha nodded in compliance and quickly took the lead again to the room, throwing open the door and taking her regular seat. Everyone was already seated, except Director Fury, who stood at the head of table, filled with importance.

"We don't know who could have done it. This is one of the most secure places on Earth most likely, and we had a break-in," Fury stated, continuing from a previous thread no doubt.

"In the fucking air to boot," Clint growled. "But then, I was able to break in here with little trouble when I was possessed."

"We've upped the security since then," Agent Hill commented, stepping closer to the table from her reserved corner.

"Apparently not enough," Steve bantered. "What do we know?" he started, taking a moment to look at each of the Avengers. "We know that it was stolen between 01:00 and 01:34. All of the cameras were down between that time. Do we have any footage of someone possibly tampering with the system before the cameras went black?"

"No, it was a wireless command. No manual involvement," Fury sighed.

"Alright, well, we have 24 hour surveillance, right? By other agents?" Steve continued.

"Yes, but only at customary entry and exit points. This person was either already inside of the boat or snuck in where there isn't anyone."

"What an astute observation, thank you," Clint muttered sarcastically.

"Agent Barton, if you aren't going to positively contribute to locating the Tesseract, you may as well not be amongst us," Thor condescended.

"Well, I'm guessing that if they came in from the outside, they would have needed plane," Banner speculated helpfully.

"Unless they had a suit that could fly," Steve remarked pointedly, everyone turning to look at Tony who had remained mysteriously silent throughout. "A flying suit would have been hard to spot, I'd imagine."

"Hey, I was asleep!" Stark shouted, standing from his chair and looking at Steve. "You better watch who you're threatening right now, or I swear to God -"

"We are not going to play the blame game again," Natasha interrupted.

"Pepper Potts was an eye-witness," Fury agreed. "She was with Stark the entire night."

"So, we're back to square one," Clint added.

"Would you have preferred for one of our own to be a traitor?" Thor argued.

"Speaking of traitors, what about Loki? He is in the boat, wants the Cube, is pure evil."

"Shut up, Stark," Natasha and Thor growled in unison.

"I don't see how we can rule him out," Fury acknowledged. "He has a history with the Cube."

"He didn't take it," Natasha retorted fiercely.

"And what makes you so sure?" Banner inquired, not looking on her side so much now as he had been in the middle of the hallway.

"Oh, didn't you hear? Loki is her lover-boy," Clint drabbled.

"That's not true, Clint!" she yelled, standing and glaring at the other agent across the table.

"Then prove that he didn't do this!" Stark demanded.

Natasha floundered for a moment, looking to Thor for any kind of help, but he seemed just as interested in her explanation as everyone else was at the table. "I…" she sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "He can't do any kind of magic inside the cage," she exclaimed, trying to hide the fact that she had been with him during that time. With a quick glance at Fury, she knew that he was already aware of her midnight presence with the god, along with Agent Hill, but both remained silent, as if baiting her to speak the truth. "How could he have gotten it?"

"Well, someone opened the cage for him before, but I'm sure that he's had time to find a loophole," Stark pressed.

"I was with him," she murmured, looking down at the table. "I know that he didn't take it, because I was with him the entire time that the cameras were off."

Everyone fell silent, and she couldn't even hear her comrades breathing.

"From what time were you there with him?" Banner asked softly.

"Why, because you think that I was the one to let him out?" she snapped, glaring at him. She knew that at any moment, he could become the Hulk, but she was didn't care. She would not be accused of treason. Out of all of her faulty qualities, loyalty was not one of them. She would lay down her life for any of the people in that room, including Clint, even if she wanted to strangle him at the moment. "I was there from midnight to 03:00."

"Doing what?" Thor questioned, looking more curious than accusatory.

"Yeah, what were you doing there, Tasha? Little midnight sex?" Clint bated.

"I never opened the doors," she argued. "He was in the cage when I arrived, and he was in the cage when I left."

"You didn't answer the question," Steve reminded, gaining up on her as well.

"I was just talking with him," she admitted.

"Ooh, about what?" Clint mocked.

"That doesn't matter," she finalized. "The fact of the matter is that he didn't do it. I was an eye-witness, and if you are going to honor Potts' testimony, you might as well honor mine."

She was met with silence.

**There's the chapter. Muhahaha! Can't have peace and quiet for forever, can we? That would just be boring. So many accusations flying around… hmm… wonder who it could be?**

**Send me a review and let me know your guesses! I would love to hear from you! Heck, I'll even give you a shout out in the next chapter if that is anymore reason to send me a review.**

**Oh, and like the length? Longest chapter ever, people. This actually may be the longest chapter I have ever written for a story, period. Feel the love, guys! Everyone who kindly reviewed for the last chapter said that they like the longer chapters, so that's what I'm going off of. But I would still love to hear your opinion on the issue!**

**Unfortunately though, this also means that it may take me a little longer to update. Add in the fact that I'm on the beloved Christmas Break, (which ends on Wednesday for me - frowny face) and I have nothing to do right now. School work can be a bitch, and I have finals coming up practically as soon as I return. I'm hoping to update at least once more before school starts back up again. After that, it may be a while, but I will try to update as soon as possible!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	4. A Crack can Become a Canyon

_**Chapter 4 - A Crack can Become a Canyon**_

**Hey, again! Sorry that this didn't make it out before Wednesday, but at least it wasn't all that late? Right? Cause like the typical teenager that I am, I decided to procrastinate a whole bunch of homework that I needed to do over my break, and therefore had to finish that before coming back to this story. Stupid school. D:**

**And I wanted to give a lovely shout-out to **_Sophia Jane Marie _**for putting not just one, but TWO guesses as to who the culprit could be. You certainly gave me some pretty interesting ideas… But thank you so much! I won't say if you're right or not, but thanks anyway!**

**REMEMBER TO THROW IN YOUR OWN GUESSES FOR A SHOUT OUT IN FUTURE CHAPTERS! I don't think that we'll see who the real culprit is for a while, at least not in this chapter, so there is plenty of time to get your moment of fame. :D**

**Officially hit the ten review mark! Woo hoo! Thanks to all of those who have reviewed! Love you guys! Let's hit twenty, shall we? Maybe with this chapter? *smiles shyly* Or maybe halfway…**

**Anyway, enough with my babbling.**

**Disclaimer: If you haven't deduced from the previous three chapters that I am in no way affiliated with Marvel, then you are either A) extremely paranoid, or B) are blind (which seems quite unlikely because fanfiction is not written in Braille, or C) just plain stupid.**

* * *

"_That doesn't matter," she finalized. "The fact of the matter is that he didn't do it. I was an eye-witness, and if you are going to honor Potts' testimony, you might as well honor mine."_

_She was met with silence._

"Well?" she demanded harshly, looking to the Director for support. "Don't pretend to not know what I'm talking about, sir. You know that there is no way that he could have gotten to the Tesseract with me being with him the entire time."

"Ma'am, you have to understand that Stark had no reason to take the Cube," Steve began warily.

"Clean energy right?" she pointed out.

"But he is on this team," Steve continued.

"Thanks, Stars and Stripes." Tony flashed a bright smile at the Captain who did nothing to return it, though Steve didn't seem bothered by the lack of affection.

"So, just because someone has a past means that they are automatically assumed guilty?" Natasha rounded, feeling like she was losing the battle. "Because then you might as well accuse me of taking it. I've got just as much of a past as he does."

"You've fought for us though," Agent Hill pointed out. "You've proved where your allegiances lie. He has a past of being like this. He's the God of Lies, and of Mischief. How can you prove that someone with tendencies like these wasn't the one who stole it?"

"I just told you! I was with him the entire time!" she yelled, slamming her fists down on the table.

"He has magic," Banner mentioned. "With the scepter, he was able to call Barton to get him from the cage. How do we know that he isn't using magic this time?"

"He can't use magic inside the cage," Natasha said weakly. "The scepter was just picking up on our argument before."

"And you know this how?" Stark asked warily.

"He told me," she excused with a shrug.

"And you believe the God of Lies was telling the truth?" Hill rounded.

"If there is anyone he can't lie to, it would be me," she snapped.

"And how is that?" Clint demanded.

Natasha sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Because we're the same," she replied in the quietest of voices. "I'm deception personified. And so is he."

"I believe her," Thor claimed resolutely, coming to stand beside her and put a fierce hand on her shoulder in support. "If there would be anyone who would be able to know the truth of my brother, it would Lady Romanoff. And if she was with him for the time that the Tesseract was stolen, then my brother must be innocent. Why do you question her this fiercely? Captain, you claimed that because Mr. Stark is on our team, we must trust him. The Lady is also on our team, and yet you doubt her. You humans," he mused with a frown. "Only using trust when it benefits you."

Steve looked rather dumbfounded by the comment before looking down into his lap with what could only be described as pure embarrassment and shame. Bruce took a deep breath and clenched the rims of the table tightly before nodding. Tony looked torn between accepting Thor's words and not. He finally let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair, digging out a bag of blueberries from his pocket and eating them. Hill also looked a little remorseful, and she sent an apologetic look to Natasha, who simply nodded, forgiving the other woman. Fury remained unreadable.

Clint though was the only one who seemed resolute in his claim that it was Loki. He met Thor's gaze easily, both demanding that the other surrender, and both remaining obstinate.

"I can vouch for Agent Romanoff by saying that she indeed with Loki in the duration of the robbery," Fury's cool voice rang out in the room, drawing everyone's attention back to the one-eyed director. "And I can also say that they were not speaking with any indication that Loki should be released to steal anything before the cameras were turned off. And that neither even looked like they had moved when the cameras turned back on."

Natasha gritted her teeth. Why he couldn't have said that earlier in the discussion was beyond her, but she was glad of his confidence in her nonetheless.

"However, I do believe that, in order to satisfy some of the members of this team," Fury carried on, sending a glance to Clint, "we need to ask the guy a few questions and verify for a fact that there was no possibility that he had anything to do with taking the Cube."

"This is preposterous," Thor growled, clenching his hand tighter around her shoulder and making her wince slightly at the furious grasp. "The word of the Lady is not enough for you?"

"For me, it is," Fury parried. "The surveillance is enough. But again, there are others who would like to be positive."

"Could I see the surveillance?" Clint asked.

"No," Natasha denied, shrugging off Thor's painful fist.

"Why? Was it private?" Clint taunted.

"I understand why Director Fury and Agent Hill witnessed the tapes, but no. I can't believe that you would take a tape's word over mine," she replied, feeling more than a little hurt by her friend's lack of trust in her. "Please, Clint?" she said quietly.

"I want to see the tape," Clint demanded again, not even casting her a glance.

"Agent Romanoff -" Fury began.

"Sir, if you give him permission to see the tapes, I will destroy them. And then any evidence you have regarding the Cube will be erased.," she threatened.

Fury's face flashed anger at the threat, but she continued to gaze at him simply. "Agent Barton, you are just going to have to go with me on this. That's an order. You're lucky we're even wasting the time to question Loki."

"Then I want to be there when you interrogate him," Clint rounded.

"As do I," Natasha stated, folding her arms.

"He is my brother, and I demand that I not be left out," Thor added.

Fury sighed and put his hands on his hips. "Agent Hill? Let's go. Stark, Banner, get going on tracing the gamma radiation from the Cube. Rogers…"

"I'll stay with him, Director," Hill volunteered. "I can attempt to catch him up in the world."

Fury nodded and began walking in the direction of Loki's cage, three of the other Avengers following dutifully behind.

Natasha's soul clenched painfully as they stepped into the detention center, Loki's masked face meeting them. She didn't know what Loki's endgame was, but she desperately hoped that he hadn't been the one to find a way to steal the Cube. She was confident that it hadn't been him, but that didn't mean that it couldn't have been. It made her wonder why she trusted the God of Lies, but something told her that his whole confession last night about a wise man not lashing out in defeat was not a hoax.

No, the agent was more troubled with the fact that Loki could very well speak openly of the discussion that they had during the early morning hours. He would have nothing to hide, and he was a mischief creator. He would probably relish in the idea to make Natasha squirm.

"Brother," Thor cooed, walking up to the glass and staring desperately at his kin.

Loki, however, kept his gaze on the redhead in his presence. She was the depiction of calmness, no worry lines or signs of stress on her becoming face. But buried in those big, green eyes, he could see the terror that she was trying so strongly to hide. She didn't want to be here. Or rather, she didn't want to be here with the others. She met his gaze, not doing anything to mask that terror, as if she was imploring him to do whatever it was that she wished of him.

Loki had heard everything that had been spoken in the conference room. He heard how everyone was very quick to place the blame on him, and then he had heard how vehemently Natasha had fought to defend him from the accusation. It had shocked him, to say the least. He never would have imagined that she would have been the kind of person to stand up for him like that. The only other person who had ever done that had been Thor, and quite often, Loki had rejected his brother's help, thinking it was a form of pity. And the god despised pity. Thor didn't understand, so that was all that he could do - pity. But Natasha understood him - what she gave him wasn't her pity. She didn't seem to be the kind of woman who could ever pity someone. But she gave him her confidence.

"Loki," Fury called, snapping Loki out of his glance with the woman.

"Yes?" the god purred peacefully, remaining on his bench with an innocent smile plastered on his face. He knew what they were coming to ask him about, and he could not deny that it made him slightly excited to be in such a position again.

"The Tesseract has been taken," Fury said blankly without blinking his one good eye.

"I am aware," Loki acknowledged, remaining suave.

"How?" Clint demanded, immediately assuming the worst of him.

"I heard you all speak of it," Loki addressed the archer. "Asgardians have sharper senses than you half-witted mortals."

"Is that true?" Clint asked, looking to Thor.

"It is true. He would have been able to hear," Thor agreed.

"So now you come to me with accusations that I was involved in the Tesseract's disappearance, am I correct?" Loki continued. Fury nodded. "Well, it regrets me to say that it was not I who stole the artifact. I was in here the entire duration of the evening. And if your timestamp is correct, then I can also say that I was not alone in this time. I have a witness."

"Yes, so she has said," Fury replied, nodding to Natasha.

"Unless you tricked her," Clint growled.

Loki grinned with malice at the young man. "Is it really that unbelievable that one of your own could come to the defense of a monster such as I? I had to have tricked her, yes? A woman who has claimed to loathe me on all counts, and yet she proclaims me innocent in the matter. Why? This is the root of your foundation that I am guilty, is it not?" He looked over at Natasha who hadn't moved since entering his room. "How can you defend me, Widow?"

She shrugged. "I know the truth."

"Yes, but how?" he continued.

"Because I just do," she bantered. "I was here with you."

"And there is no way that I could have manipulated you into thinking that you were truly speaking with a tangible Loki?" he taunted.

Natasha's face twisted into one of fury, and she shoved Thor roughly out of the way as she approached the glass. Thor looked quite confused, and one look from her told him to stand down. He nodded and walked back away from the two. Her voice lowered as she stared at the god, Loki boldly walking up to meet her on the other side of the glass walls, "You know that you are innocent. I know that you're innocent. Why are you giving the others reason to doubt you?"

"Because it is fun," he replied, coming to stand directly in front of her.

"You're making them doubt me, Loki. If they can't trust me, we can't get the Tesseract back," she pointed out. "Stop it."

"What makes you think that I want it back? It is the thing that will send me to my father, and therefore, my death."

"I could care less about that. But you're fucking with my life now, and that is unacceptable. You tell them that you were here with me, and that it was really you the entire time. That you can't do any magic here in the cage and that it was impossible for you to steal it."

"And I could care less that I am as you say it, 'fucking' with your life," he mocked right back, smirking slightly as her resentment became more evident on her face.

Her green eyes darted around on the floor as she tried to come up with a proper response for him while he stoically waited, the smirk never leaving his face. "How old are you?" she suddenly demanded.

The question undoubtedly caught him entirely off guard, the relevance to the current situation unknown to him. "I no longer remember," he answered coolly.

"Well, then something tells me that given your age, you know of a little something called honor? Or at least you're aware of the pay-back policy. I just covered your creepy ass; you're in my debt. This is how I'm asking you to repay me," she declared, looking smug.

A snarl ripped through his throat as he understood her. And it was indeed an unfortunate moment for the trickster when he realized that she was correct in her assessment. He gave one, curt nod, seeing her smile widen, a smile that he returned with a menacing glare. "The Lady is being truthful in her statement," he acknowledged for the others to hear. "She was in here with me during the time that the Tesseract was stolen. And she is also correct when she states that I had nothing to do with the theft. Your robber is not me." He looked back at Natasha. "Happy?" he whispered.

"Never," she chimed, leaving the smug grin on her face as she turned to look back to her team.

"Do you know who could have been the thief?" Fury carried on, ignoring the small interlude between the god and his agent.

"My interest in the Tesseract dissipated the moment it closed the portal. My attentions haven't been on the power source since then," Loki replied.

Fury frowned. "Well then are you aware of any other who could have had a desire to have the Cube?" he rephrased.

"I was to retrieve the Tesseract for a creature called the Other in exchange for the rule over Midgard. I only know that he wanted it to unveil more parts of the universe. This is the only being that I am aware of who would have wanted it. However, as Thor can attest to, there are other relics scattered throughout the universe that could prove helpful in his search for power."

Everyone looked cautiously at Thor. "This is true," Thor stated clearly.

"And how would the Other have reacted should you have failed your mission in recovering the Cube?" Fury pondered.

Loki scoffed. "Are you concerned that you may not be the only creatures opting for my death?"

"Do not speak like this, Brother," Thor pleaded, his face looking paler.

Loki seemed to acknowledge his brother's words, though did not spare him a glance. "In any case, I was promised torture and pain for my inability to give them what they wanted."

"And this doesn't bother you?" Clint asked, looking curious.

"Perhaps it would if I truly believed that these beings could have beat me. The Chitauri feared me even before I claimed the scepter, and now that I possess it, I do not believe that they would aggressively try to discover me. I suspect they will weakly search, and even if they happen to find me, they will report nothing to the Other," Loki answered. He paused. "But these facts are of no help to you now with the Tesseract taken. And as I stated, there are other artifacts in the realms that would give them what they want." Loki shrugged. "They may be difficult to attain, but no more difficult than acquiring the Tesseract."

Fury nodded before turning and leaving, Barton hot on his heels, eager to escape the room of his nemesis. "Brother, you have no idea how grateful I am to know that this was not one of your workings," Thor began, coming to stand next to Natasha.

"Simply be glad to the mortal woman for being here to clear my good name," Loki retorted with a roll of his blue eyes.

"The mortal woman is right here," Natasha mentioned crudely. "And the mortal woman does not like being referred to as such."

"And the immortal god cares little for the desires of the mortal woman," Loki taunted right back, arching his eyebrow up at her.

Thor looked between the two of them curiously, then a wide smile swept across his face. He shook his blond head, stalking off with his broad shoulders bouncing as he joyously laughed. The remaining two in the room looked at the God of Thunder with confusion, neither understanding the joke, if it could even be called such a thing.

"He seems like he knows something that we don't," Natasha said quietly, still staring after the red cape that swooshed as it disappeared around the corner.

Loki pretended that it didn't bother him. "Perhaps. Though he does get that stupid grin whenever he passes gas, so…"

Natasha's eyes widened considerably, taking a careful sniff of the air around her, sighing in relief at the normal freshness of the room. Meanwhile, Loki began chuckling madly in the cage until she realized what he had done. "That was a childish trick. Even for you," she accused.

"Yes, but anything for a good laugh," he replied.

She rolled her eyes in his direction, seriousness then taking over her pale features as she continued to gaze at him. "Are you really not at all worried about the Other's plans for you?" she asked.

His blue eyes quickly darted away from her, settling on the floor as he began pacing in a circle. "I worry not about it. And neither should you."

Here Natasha let out a harsh laugh of her own. "You think that I care for your well-being?"

"You seemed to care enough to extensively attempt to prove my innocence in this new mission." Natasha swiftly fell silent at that, and he grinned maliciously. "Why did you do that, anyways? A perfect opportunity to have me killed and you fight for me. Even against your precious Barton." She still didn't say anything in response. "Do you love him?"

"You've already asked me that," she snapped.

"And you retorted with the claim that love is a childish notion," he hurried with a nod.

"Then you should already know my answer," she replied.

"He is in love with you, you know," he reminded casually, as if discussing the weather.

"You just can't stand to not get under my skin every time I'm in here, can you?" Her attempt to sway him from his question made him grin all the more.

"What pain it must cause him to know that in the time you could be spending with him, perhaps training or laughing genuinely without a care in world, you remain here in this hellhole with me. A man who takes pleasure in crumbling your world and who does nothing but taunt you and degrade you."

"And how can you tell that that is not why I come here? You said it yourself: we are the same. Maybe I like the idea of your whole world going to hell and taunting you and degrading you. Easy prey for once, right?" she parried skillfully.

"I have no other alternative," he excused easily. "Unlike you."

Natasha's face flushed red in rage, hands balling into fists at her side. "I'm the one to kill you," she growled. "If I hadn't saved your ass in there, someone else would have killed you. And I'm the only one who gets to do that, right? Same reason why I asked about the Other coming after you. You're my kill. Not his," she continued. "That's why I covered for you, asshole."

She left him rapidly after conveying her reasons to him, and he stared after her retreating form, confused of how he was supposed to react to such a confession. Part of him reveled in the fact that she took her job as executioner so seriously; it made the game much more fun, after all. He also felt excitement that he was still capable of tearing her down to her foundations and making her mad with him. Hate was such a strong emotion, and he could not deny that he loved it. Yet, there was one part of him that was slightly upset by the fact that she only defended him because of his promise to her. Was there nothing more about him that made her want to protect him? That a woman like her could truly only hate him and consider him her prey? The paranoid part of him instantly latched onto this thought, twisting it further. All of their conversations… was it just a malicious way for her to tear information out of him? She had after all, given up a piece of her own history to learn his plans with Banner in their first conversation. Could this be another stem from that same plot? With this thought, he frowned, hitting the glass of his cage viciously and letting out a fearful yell. He had been tricked yet again by the Black Widow. And it had taken him even longer this time to understand his folly. Damn her. Damn her to hell, to Thanos, to every torturous place that ever existed. And with luck, he would get to be the one and only to send her there.

* * *

Natasha blinked as the gun fired, bullet hitting the moving target square in the head, leaving her to finish off the other three in seconds. The small pistol that had once felt so painfully heavy as a child, felt nonexistent in her palm. It had become a part of her, her body accepting the additional weight as a functioning mechanism for her. She would daresay that she actually felt rather naked without it holstered at her side, along with all of her other trinkets of war.

The range was quiet, save perhaps for the occasional groan of the ship that reverberate throughout the cement. Other agents often would have been in here, at that very moment, taking their time to do just as she was, but it paid to be so high up in the rankings with Fury hence her solitude.

Setting the gun down, she snatched a larger one, cushioning it against the crook of her shoulder, skillfully setting her gaze through the scope, crosshairs marking her aim with potent accuracy. The next course was designed to be more trying, the dummies moving faster and in ways that were unpredictable to an untrained eye. Even this though, only took her but a moment to shoot the all of the dummies.

She sighed heavily, removing the headphones and putting the weighty piece of artillery down with the smaller gun. Breathing felt like an impossible task for the agent as she dropped to the floor, her back pressed up against the coldness of the wall. Natasha had no idea why on earth was getting so very emotional all of a sudden. Though she had always felt traces of feelings in her, she had always been able to shove them aside when need be. It was one of the only ways she knew of to bury the pain. But now, it seemed as if a floodgate had been opened, and sentiment was coursing through every inch of her being, scaring her.

Being so unpracticed with the infernal things, she didn't even have the knowledge to properly name them. All that she knew was that there were so many, most likely a majority of them not even having names to go by. What troubled her even more though, was that these feelings all seemed to be centered around one bastard god in a holding cell.

For a moment, she triumphed in being able to identify anger amongst the feelings. Yes, she was furious with Loki. He had tormented her yet again, holding the threat of ruining her life at S.H.I.E.L.D. And it had been so easy! Without barely moving any muscle, he had cornered her in front of her director and her friend, spoiling her previous confidence in his innocence. And the smile that he had on his face! So full of mischief and cruelty! It made her sick to her stomach with the thought.

Betrayal followed anger, screaming so terribly loud in her head that for a moment, she was frightened of the tears that were beginning to form in her green eyes. It pained her far more than she would have cared to admit to know how simply he tossed away their deep and meaningful talks. Surely, she had been positive that he would have firmly stood by her testimony, perhaps even thanking her for her confidence in him. But no.

A cool teardrop fell on the back of her hand, drawing her from her moment of Feelings 101. An actual tear. Carefully, she brought her hand up closer to her face, staring at the tear. She couldn't remember the last time she had actually cried. She had wept before for her missions as it was a rather strong technique of persuasion and helplessness, but this tear had been shed for the pain that she was feeling. A tear that was just for her and for no one else to take pity on.

Natasha frowned deeply, flicking her pale hand with the tear away from herself and being sure to wipe away at any more of the salty water threatening to spill out. It was now that she fully realized how much Loki had broken her. Making her cry over silly things like feelings. Things that had absolutely no importance over the mission. It had been his goal all along. Make her feel vulnerable and weak. That way he could regain that precious pride back from the time when she had tricked him. He had to have his revenge. He had wound her up around his finger, playing his games with her, teasing her, indulging in those conversations with her. All to make her feel like the helpless woman that he believed her to be.

She stood quickly, reclaiming her guns and punching in commands to the range settings and then fired with a burning rage at everything that moved, imagining the face of Loki Laufeyson on each of the dummies. Natasha Romanoff could wipe that stupid smile off of his face. She could hurt him. Kill him.

Now it was just a matter of buying time for herself. He would have to trust her at some point, even more than he already did, perhaps. And it would be then that she would kill him. And she would stare with pride as he looked at her with horror in those deep blue eyes. Let him feel the betrayal.

* * *

**There it is! I know that it's a little short, but I didn't want to leap into a whole new thing seeing as this seemed to be a pretty good place to stop. Just a little over 5000 words (just barely, but still!), which is pretty good, I think. And there was a cute bantering scene between our two favorites, so that's always fun, right? Hopefully, *cackles mischievously* there will be a few more of those in the future, right?**

**I know, I'm terrible. We all know that Loki really had no intention of doing that to Tasha, and we know that she wasn't really into the manipulating scene this time around. Total misunderstanding. Tee hee. I really shouldn't be enjoying myself as much as I am. **

**Anyway, next chapter, I think we shall get further into the plot. I know that everything up to this point has seemed like filler stuff, but we gotta have a little background into our characters' *cough, cough Loki and Natasha cough, cough* feelings towards each other before really going in. But I promise that we haven't heard that last of these "infernal feelings" that Natasha was thinking about. It is a BlackFrost fic after all.**

_LEAVE A REVIEW FOR A SHOUT OUT ON WHO YOU THINK STOLE THE TESSERACT! _**I'll even give you a hint: It is absolutely no one who you would expect and they may not be from the Avengers team… Let's see if we can hit 20 reviews! I think we can swing 9 this time around, yeah?**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	5. A Plan of Attack

_**Chapter 5 - A Plan of Attack**_

**Well, here I am! I cannot tell you how happy you guys made me with that last chapter! I mean, 5 reviews in less than 24 hours?! That's awesome. And they are all so nice and sweet, and you all made me blush profusely. I know that it may seem pathetic for me to be gushing like this, but new stories always bring that trepidation of whether or not people will enjoy reading it. And being that this is my first story in this fandom, it just makes everything so much better when I hear enthusiastic readers saying that they like the story. Really brightens my day. Truly. So thanks!**

**So, we have had a few more guesses as to who this mysterious thief could possibly be. I would like to thank **_no-MY name's Anonymous _**for such a wonderful guess, actually multiple wonderful guesses like the last one. And I will say that with the last one, you were on the right track… sorta… tee hee.**

**We are finally getting down to who the real thief is, so… I don't know if you'll get a shout out if you guess this time around. Kinda a giveaway in the first few lines of this chapter. But we will see! Don't hesitate to leave a review though! They make a writer a very happy girl indeed. And with finals coming up in school, a very happy girl is never a bad thing.**

**Disclaimer: Because I don't own Marvel, I don't own any of the hot, and sexy Avengers… Or Loki… Or anyone… yeah, I'm going to go cry a river now. My life sucks.**

* * *

Mortals, he realized, never really understood the difference between self-confidence and arrogance. He was always accused of the latter, and though yes, he considered himself far greater and more important that the ordinary human, there was such a negative connotation. Arrogance was a word that he personally believed to be a condition in which the human overestimates his reach, falling short and thereby being quite humiliated. Self-confidence however, was another matter entirely. The true belief in oneself, the knowledge of how far one's reach truly was, and knowing what was within one's grasp.

True, he had believed once in his younger years that he was self-confident in his abilities. But that was when humanity was still stout in his system. Years, decades, of the steady extinction of humanity allowed him to come to terms with his one tragic flaw. This was the only way he had been beaten before. He was quite sure. In his absence, he had time to reflect on his thoughts and his actions. He could now fully comprehend what was indeed within his reach, and what was simply unachievable.

But he knew now. He had spent the years in his exile mapping out this one moment, and he knew what it was that he wanted to do with the Earth. Domination was still his endgame, but he now knew how to go about it and succeed.

With a vicious grin, he tenderly stroked the Tesseract's casing, his brown eyes being deeply drawn to the glowing and celestial piece of technology.

"I'm going to need a scientist," he called, knowing that someone was likely to hear him and begin searching for the required mortal. Sure enough, dozens of feet began scurrying about on the cement floor, and there was a commencement of clacking on keyboards.

* * *

"We are basically like sitting ducks," Stark droned, head pressed against his chin while he distractedly drummed his nails on the table.

"As you mentioned five minutes ago," Steve grumbled in response. "And five minutes before that. And five minutes before that…"

"Wasn't talking to you, Stars and Stripes," Stark snapped back.

"Then who were you talking to?" Steve rounded.

"Myself. Obviously. With Banner gone, it's the only way to have an intelligent conversation."

Natasha angrily rolled her eyes before letting her gaze settle on the tapping fingers. Silence settled throughout the Avengers, but the incessant tapping continued, and it wasn't much longer before she reached across the table and stilled his hand. "That is really annoying," she justified. With the removal of her hand, he continued on with the drumming, Natasha rubbing firm circles on her temples. "If you don't stop that, I'm going to break your fingers, Stark." The tapping stopped.

"We are basically sitting ducks," Stark repeated, Clint beating an angry fist on the table.

"You must have a terrible memory if you can't remember what you yourself said to yourself not even five minutes ago," Thor breathed, looking rather stressed.

"Well, there isn't much that we can do until we figure out who stole it!" Stark exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. "They haven't done anything with it, and -"

"It's in the Alps," Banner's voice announced as the purple clothed scientist walked through the glass doors, walking up to the conference room computers and typing in a command. Snow capped mountains appeared on the screen.

"The Alps?" Thor asked. "What are the Alps? More importantly, where?"

"They're a mountain range in the middle of Europe. Which is across the Atlantic Ocean," Banner politely explained. "Now, I can't exactly pinpoint where exactly in the Alps the Tesseract is, which means we've got a significant amount of mountains."

"So, it's in the mountain?" Clint asked.

"As far as I can tell," Banner replied.

"Who the hell does that?" Stark asked incredulously. "Few escape routes if that thing doesn't play nice with the others."

"And you would know," Natasha muttered under her breath, Stark appearing not to have heard. "So, what's the plan of attack here? We go and blow up mountains until we find the right one?"

"We'll need a scout," Steve spoke up, looking rather pale. "German border, I'm guessing."

Stark's brown eyes widened considerably at that, and he pointed breathlessly at Steve and at the picture of mountains. "You think this is Schmidt," he accused.

"It's impossible," Steve countered. "I watched him get obliterated by the Cube. He disintegrated right before my very eyes. I'm thinking that someone is just taking his place. Cube's been active lately, and someone from Hydra could very well have heard. We were in Germany, after all with Loki."

"For obvious reasons, you can't be included in the scout, Steve," Clint ordered. "They could recognize you from either last time you were in the country, or from the war. Probably think that they're already being really sneaky by not using it."

"I'd love to be on this scout," Tony volunteered, raising a hand.

"No," Steve quickly disagreed. "You're too public. People already know that you're associated with the Avengers. You'd be found out in an instant."

"Obviously, it'd probably not be a good idea to send in an anger management case on a potentially anger inducing scout," Banner pointed out with a frown.

"What about me?" Thor asked.

Natasha squinted her eyes at the possibility. "With all due respect, I don't think you could pull off the spy very well. We can't let him know that we're onto him. I think that I need to go."

"I'll go with. We can cover as a couple," Clint added.

Here, Natasha bit her lip as she stared at her best friend. Everyone else also seemed to pick up on the sudden feel of tension in the room. "Um, this is the Tesseract…" she started, unsure of how to continue her words without making it sound terrible. "I think that it would be best if we maybe had another Asgardian on the mission."

"And you've already said that it wouldn't be Thor," Stark pointed out needlessly.

"Thanks for your contribution, Stark," Natasha muttered darkly at the billionaire. "Loki is manipulative, I know. But I think that this could play for our advantage."

"Yeah, he's the god version of Tasha," Stark continued. "And he knows the Tesseract and all of its evil uses better than anyone else."

"You're supporting this?" Clint demanded, glaring at Tony. "He's a villain! We just spent a whole week trying to lock this guy up for trying to take over the world, and your suggestion is to recruit him in this next world domination plan and hope that he stays on our side? You said it yourself, the bastard is manipulative! He could make us think the entire time that he was on our side and then suddenly turn out to be the bad guy! I can't believe that you would even suggest this."

"I would be willing to converse with him," Thor suggested. "Though my brother my have done treacherous deeds in the past, I am confident that in this particular case, this Hydra you speak of would not be an ally of his."

"Why not? Co-domination of the world?" Clint threw his hands in the air.

"Loki wouldn't be willing to do a 50/50 deal, Clint," Natasha said quietly. "All or nothing. And if Hydra really does have the Tesseract, then they're the ones with all of the cards right now. Loki would be forced to submit to their demands and then get nothing."

"And what would he get from us if he did decide to help us out? A pat on the back?" Clint ranted sarcastically. "There is nothing that he wants from us that would get him to do this. And even if he did want to, I wouldn't trust him. True, Hydra may hold all of the cards right now, but Loki can play this game, Natasha. The guy has been in my head; I know these things. He will find a way to make sure that he comes out on top and that he gets the Tesseract back and then he can continue on with his plans for King of the World," the agent theorized, his voice becoming darker and darker as he progressed with the obscene ways that the God of Mischief could betray them all.

"And who would fight for him?" Steve asked suddenly. "The Chitauri are gone. His army is nonexistent. And us six beat him with an army, what do you think we could do with him all on his own?"

"Yeah, and we have a Hulk," Stark added with a cheesy grin, Banner blushing.

"I think that we should vote on this," Steve decided, folding his hands diplomatically on the table as he looked at each individual Avenger.

"No!" Clint raged. "You haven't even talked to Fury about this!"

At that very moment, the glass doors reopened, Agent Hill and Director Fury striding in, leather trench coat billowing like a black cloud behind him as he took his reserved spot at the head of the table. "I heard everything," he said as Clint tried to explain the situation to him. Everyone stared at him, quiet, and waiting for his final say. "Well, do your vote," he ordered, waving to Steve to proceed.

Steve shifted in his seat and cast an uneasy glance at his leader. "All those in favor of sending Loki with Natasha?" He shyly raised his hand, along with Natasha, Thor, Tony, and Banner. "I think it's clear that you were outvoted Clint."

"She'll be safer this way," Banner mentioned calmly.

"You think that I can't protect her?" Clint demanded arrogantly.

"Against an organization like Hydra?" Fury retorted, bemused. "No."

"I can take care of myself," Natasha said through gritted teeth.

"I know that. But it'll be nice to have a god on your side who can do magic," Banner soothed with a small smile and a twinkle reaching his warm, brown eyes.

"Yeah, why would you say no to that?" Stark concluded sarcastically.

"Agent Romanoff, I want you briefing Loki on this. Granted, he probably heard the entire conversation, but you may need to…"

"Persuade him," Natasha finished the director's thought with a nod of determination. She immediately stood from her seat and left the room, trying her best to take deep and calming breaths as she approached the god's quarters.

She hadn't spoken with him since her original realization that he was evoking feelings from her, a week ago, and she had to admit, that this was both a nice thing and a frustrating thing at the same time. Nice, because it gave her time to relax her nerves and lessen her anger toward the cunning man. Especially given a mission like this (though she had been the one to suggest the mission) it would be crucial that they would be able to get along and cooperate. It was also nice because she had gotten more time to devote to her overall plan of how exactly she wanted to exterminate him.

However, it was all frustrating as well. Even though he hadn't been on the Helicarrier long, Natasha had felt as if she had developed a sort of routine with Loki. She would visit, and though his verbal assaults could sometimes be very crude and painful for her to hear, it had been a routine. And he hadn't been the only one to deliver emotional anguish. But there were even the moments in the past week where she simply missed his presence. He had been an entertaining individual and a twisted part of her enjoyed his company. Maybe it was because they were so alike that they felt like they had found a diamond in the rough, someone who understood them.

By now, Natasha was at the door, staring at it like it was a devilish vice, something that seemed absolutely impossible to conquer. But if she had manipulated him before, she could manipulate him again, if she needed to.

With determination, she punched in the key code, entering the room, unaffected by the sudden temperature drop. She simply suspected that it was the Frost Giant in him.

"Mortal Woman," he greeted, staring right through her.

The title made her pause in her advance, and the stare made her even more reluctant to move any closer to him. He appeared more like vermin to her than he ever had before, and she suddenly regretted the moment she mentioned Loki going with her as a scout.

"Immortal God," she returned cautiously, monitoring his actions carefully, seeing only the slightest twitch on his forehead at her words. "Not the usual 'hello' I get from you," she observed.

"I do not make it appoint to live up to other's expectations," he muttered, still staring through her with cold blue eyes. It wasn't the normal stare that he gave her. Those ones felt as if he was trying to look at her soul through her own eyes, so desperate to understand how she was wired and how she worked. This stare though made her feel as if she wasn't even there, like an apparition that didn't even deserve acknowledgement, let alone conversation. "You come to persuade me to join you in your quest?" he carried on. "I assure you, I won't."

"Why?" she asked, walking up slowly to the cage. "I would think that you would love to get out of the cage and stretch your legs. We'd be going to the Alps, so, sightseeing, Swiss chocolate maybe…"

He chuckled without mirth. "Persuasion," he mocked, looking at the floor of his cage. "No, I daresay, 'tis far more likely that you are simply whoring yourself for S.H.I.E.L.D. My benefits are of no importance to you. Don't waste my time in trying to convince me otherwise."

Natasha's brows furrowed in confusion. "You don't seem like your normal self today."

She was met with a rather fierce glare, the first sign of actually life in Loki since she had walked in. "As I told you. Do not try to convince me that you care for my wellbeing."

"If you're going to be my partner, then my wellbeing rests on your wellbeing. Therefore, I am practically demanded to care," she retorted.

"I never said that I would join you," he snapped. "What makes you think that I would wish to help save a world that I had originally sought to conquer for myself?"

"Well, I would think that it would be out of arrogance," she replied. "You think that this is your planet, and someone else thinks it's their planet. Isn't it a rule of manliness that you fight it out?"

"I am above whoever took the Tesseract," he excused.

"No doubt. But you both want the same thing," she answered coyly and with a small smile.

"And you are positive that I still desire this?" he questioned back. "Perhaps I no longer wish to rule any realm?" he pointed out.

"Things like that don't change overnight."

"Maybe they do over a week."

"So, you're angry because I haven't been in here with you for a week?"

"I'm mad that you think that you can be cordial with me when it benefits you."

"Oh, you don't like being used? Kind of how you used Barton and Selvig for your benefit?"

"It's different. I'm above them," he reminded.

"No, you're in a cage," she said. "Right now, even the bugs on the windshield of this boat are above you right now."

Loki looked away from her, his jaw a long tight line of anger. "What do you want me to do? Or what would you want me to do, seeing as how I am not attending this mission with you?"

"I manipulate people for a living," she started. "You manipulate people for fun. I need to know who exactly has the Tesseract, why they want it, where they have it, and how to foil their plans, all through manipulation. Backup wouldn't be terrible."

"And Agent Barton would not make a proper partner for this mission?"

"This is about a weapon from Asgard. You happen to be from there. Seemed like a pretty obvious choice to me. You know more about the weapon and its capabilities than anyone on this ship. Your skill set it needed in this case."

"Thor is from there as well," he mentioned.

"Why are you so opposed to getting out of here?"

"Why are _you_ so hell-bent on getting me out of here?" he parried.

"Because the mission demands it."

"No, _you_ suggested it in the first place," he reminded her, pointing his finger at her.

"So, you don't want to go on the mission because you think that I want you there, and that means apparently that I want to manipulate you along with Hydra?" she assumed.

"I don't think, I know," he argued.

"Even if that were true, I find it difficult to believe that you are so upset by my beating you at your own game that you wouldn't attempt revenge and go with me," she mocked. "Unless you really think that I am the unbeatable one here, then I guess I can see where you're coming from."

Loki seemed greatly troubled by her retort, falling utterly silent and wringing his hands. "How do you know that you can trust me?" he finally asked. "I could run away with this Hydra you speak of."

"I believe that I answered that question in the conference room. You know that I'm right too."

"And what is my incentive?" he carried on. "What pleasure would I derive from going with you on this scouting mission?"

Natasha grinned genuinely, feeling brave enough now to approach him closer and rest her hand against the glass. "Come on, you really want to say that you are happy to be locked up in a cage 24/7? Can't be good for your ego, for one thing. Plus, you may even get the chance to fight, and you'll get to freely manipulate people. Which I know is something that you enjoy doing -"

"Because?"

"Because I enjoy it," she answered easily. "And then there's the fact that I could very well get killed on this mission," she added quietly. "And seeing as how that is supposed to be your area, I would think that you would want to make sure that no one steals your moment of glory."

"What would stop me from killing you as soon as I get out of here?"

"You wanted a game of cat and mouse," she responded with a small shrug. "Killing me immediately wouldn't be fun. Just like me killing you immediately wouldn't be any fun."

Loki finally seemed to crack a small smirk. "Still intent on killing me?" he teased, a blue flame appearing in his eyes, and Natasha knew that she had won the battle. He would go with her. She wasn't exactly sure how she knew so well that he would indeed go with her, but it just seemed obvious to her. Natasha just knew.

She returned the smirk. "Just as intent as you are to kill me," she repeated. "I'll get you the file."

Loki merely nodded and waited patiently as she left the room, only to come back a moment later with a manila folder. "Are you going to open my cage, Mortal Woman?" he inquired playfully.

Natasha sighed. "Well, you're going to have to be let out eventually," she finally decided, pressing a series of buttons on the console, the cage door making a deep swoosh as it opened, letting fresh air into the cage. "I'm not going in there, so you're going to come out here."

"Don't trust me?" he stated, his voice sounding much more normal without inches of glass interfering with it. Natasha would even say that it sounded pleasant. But of course a God of Lies would have to have a soothing voice. It only made sense. But nevertheless, it had to be one of the most beautiful voices she had ever heard.

"You locked Thor in that thing, and I don't intend to fall for that," she replied as he approached her. The sudden feel of him next to her was rather startling, to say the least. She was expecting cold, clammy hands to take the folder from her, but instead, she was touched with warm, smooth hands. The surprise difference of her expectation was her reasoning for the shiver that trickled down her spine.

"Wise of you," he replied coolly, opening the folder and seeing a clear picture of the Tesseract. Natasha inconspicuously reached for her gun as she saw the prolonged stare. She didn't know what he could do now that he was out, but she wasn't about to take any further shortcuts. His finger fell on the image, tracing the shape with a kind of tenderness in his blue eyes. "It's just a memory, Agent Romanoff," he excused. "In fact, a rather bad one," he added with a growl as he finally tore his gaze from the Cube, beginning to read over everything else in the file with rapid eyes.

"I'm setting agents outside of the room, so don't even think about trying to escape. We have the scepter on lockdown for the moment, so you won't be able to get to that either," Natasha commented with her most agent like voice.

"I have my magic back," he muttered, as if amazed with the realization.

Natasha here removed her gun completely and aimed it directly at him. "You are not to do magic here. Do you understand me?"

"I have no intention of going back in that infernal cage," he told her calmly, continuing to look at the file, her gun not at all bothersome to him. "I give you my word."

"And your word is supposed to mean something?"

"Obviously, it does if you trust me with this mission," he bantered, looking up to her and raising an eyebrow up at her. "You can put the gun away."

She debated it for a moment before holstering the weapon again. "Any funny business, you'll go right back into that cage. I don't care if I have to send your magic ass across the ocean to get back in here."

"I believe you,:" he said, looking thoughtfully at her.

Natasha nodded. "You can stay in here for the night. One more night in the cage won't kill you. Won't even close the door."

Loki stared at her, a million different thoughts running in his head, and he was having trouble focusing on just one of them. "I must say that it does surprise me. You putting so much faith in the man who tried to destroy your world just a week ago. It makes me suspect that you may be trying to manipulate me once again as you had before during our first interlude. And how you have since then."

This comment shocked the agent, and she looked up at his towering frame with confusion. "What are you talking about? I haven't been assigned to manipulate you since you came back here." "I've told you my history far more than I ever should have all at your prompting."

"That is not because of me," she denied, shaking her head. "That, I believe, Loki, is what you would call trust. You trusted me with that information."

"And how much of it have your relayed to Barton?" he smarted. "Or any of the others for that matter? That I cannot do magic whilst in the cage? You told everyone this."

"And it ended up benefiting you because I told them. They would have accused you of being the one to take the Tesseract," she retorted. She rolled her eyes. "Which you have yet to thank me for," she added in a quieter voice, but no less smug.

"You think that I would thank you?"

"I think that if it weren't for your ego, you would have already. I'm sure Thor would've."

"Don't compare me to that glittering buffoon," Loki growled. "I'm nothing like him."

"As you've pointed out before," she paused, looking hesitant to continue. "Quite frankly, I find you much more… intriguing than him."

"Is that meant as a compliment?"

"It's probably the closest you're ever going to get of having one," she agreed with a small smile. They fell into a silence, both grinning smugly at the other until Natasha shook her head, looking down at the file still in his hands. "Get some sleep after you're finished with the file," she stated becoming the masked agent once more. "It may not take long to get there, but it is pretty far."

Loki merely sighed, looking back at the file. Nothing was there that he wasn't already aware of. He probably understood the power of the Tesseract better than anyone in the Helicarrier. Which, he supposed was why his presence was needed as much as Natasha proclaimed it to be.

With a final nod from the woman beside him, she began to take her leave when he smiled quite suddenly. "I do so enjoy the smell of vanilla, Agent Romanoff," he praised, smirking even further at her abrupt stop in her walk. "I would hope that it is not solely for my benefit?" he teased.

"As if I would try to appeal to you," she retorted before walking more briskly out of the room.

Loki watched her retreat even moments after she had disappeared from his view. Though he despised the woman he was doomed to be working with, there was nothing wrong in admitting that she was definitely the most attractive mortal he had come to witness on this sorry little planet. And he surprisingly hadn't been lying when he had confessed to how much he liked the smell of vanilla on her. With a deep inhalation, he could almost feel the remnants of her scent lingering in the room with him, surrounding him.

So, she had denied ever manipulating him before. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the confession, and a part of him was still nervously suspicious that this was simply another one of her intricate webs that she was weaving for him. But the other, larger part wanted to believe her. If she truly was trying to get information out of him, taking him away to the mountains was not a sure way of doing this. Nor was it a safe way, besides. And he knew well enough that the mission that she had spoken about with him had been a real mission, not something made up in hopes of converting him to the "good guys". With all of these thoughts in mind, he supposed that it was logical to believe her statement. Nevertheless though, he realized that he would have to be more restricted in what he did and didn't convey to her about his past. Before it had been a lapse of good judgment, but he knew better now, and he would be sure to never let it happen again to him.

Deciding that the file was not at all important, he abandoned it on the console, sitting with boredom in her chair and glaring at his cage. He wished that he could snap his fingers and get rid of the vile thing. But he had told her that he wouldn't use magic. That didn't mean he couldn't; the traces of sorcery dripping majestically through his veins returned that powerful feeling back to him. He could go back on his word, at that very moment. He could teleport out of the carrier, land somewhere far away and terrorize whichever population of people he came upon first, just for the fun of it. But he wouldn't.

Loki was unsure why he wouldn't, thinking that it was perhaps because he knew that when he would be caught again, punishment would not be so relaxed as it was in this case. Maybe it was because he wanted to really fight against whoever stole the Tesseract, the weapon that he himself had intended to use. This being had no right; it was of Asgard and above the mortals in every way. And the fact that the Tesseract would be used to assist a mortal in acquiring the world, it stung his pride greatly. If Loki couldn't have the world with the Tesseract, there was no way that he was going to allow a mortal the same.

Then, there was the small part of him that wondered if for a moment, he had decided not use his magic because Natasha had been the one to tell him that it was off limits. Why he would ever desire to obey her wishes was beyond his understanding, but he felt that there was something in him that didn't want to betray the amount of trust that she had strangely put in him.

It was uncommon to say the least. Never before had such a great amount of confidence in him been placed, and it frightened him as he pondered it longer. His brother had believed him capable of being good, but that hadn't meant that Thor trusted him with such a heavy decision. People had looked at him with fear, and they had locked him away, cast him out, at the first opportunity, believing that his malice could not be used against them if he was not there. But Natasha had seemed so sure of herself, thinking that he would help her with her mission. And she had been right. He would help, unfortunately. Because he was promised to be the one to deliver the Black Widow's death, and he would be damned if a mortal beat him to such a thing. He would reluctantly protect her.

But the manipulation could be entertaining, he thought with a smile. Being for so long on the victim side of her witty jabs, it would be exciting not only to watch her tear into another, but also fun to possibly assist her with the charge. He did love mind games, after all. And if it all meant that Barton would be unhappy with her being with Loki instead of him, it only sweetened the pot. She had not been immune to attraction, Loki had noticed, and even if he hated her, it at least would make the journey together all the more fascinating.

With all of the different thoughts in mind, he finally decided to rest his eyes, leaning back in the chair, praising Odin that there was actual cushion on this chair, not only on the seat but in the back. As he reclined further in the chair, a faint whiff of vanilla swept through his nose, making him smile.

* * *

**There you have it! Plot is fully underway, and we've got Loki out of the cage! Finally, right? Poor guy, I can't imagine being locked up in a small compartment like that for over a week. Course, I'm a little claustrophobic, so that's my excuse. But even still. I'd probably go crazy.**

**And Loki and Natasha have a mission together! What do you guys think of that? Too cliché? I don't know. I personally am excited for this: it's been running around in my head ever since I started this story, so if you don't like it, oh well. But I would still love to hear your input. Nothing wrong with that at all. ;D**

**Now, we kinda know who the big thief here is, right? I would love to hear input on that too.**

**I think that we can break the twenty review mark this time around, yeah? We were so dang close last time!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	6. The Fake, Happy Couple

_**Chapter 6 - The Fake, Happy Couple**_

**Hey everybody! I know this update may seem a little late, and I truly am sorry about that. It happens sometimes. (Readers from my other story probably hate me right now) And this chapter was probably the hardest to write so far. I had it all out in my head how I wanted it to go, but every time I tried to write something down, it came out wrong and it just didn't sound good. I actually had to restart the chapter a couple of times because I was so unhappy with it. I still am a little angry with how this one came out, so if you hate it, you are the only one. I think I may have gone totally out of character, but I will let you guys be the judges for that.**

**Anyway, we finally broke twenty reviews! So excited about that! Before we know it, there'll be a hundred! Or, at least I hope. Don't want to get too confident there. But keep sending the reviews! I love hearing opinions from you guys, and they sometimes give me great springboards to go off of for the next few chapters. :D**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Marvel, you would know. Joss Whedon and Kevin Fiege would be all over the news for being kidnapped by a megalomaniac woman with fangirl issues. As well as Tom. And the Chris's. Tee hee.**

**PS. They are going to this place in Germany, called Bavaria. Yes, it is a real place, according to Google, so if you disagree, you can take it up with them. I know that the story says Munich, but this is apparently the capital of Bavaria, again, as Google has relayed to me. I did my homework!**

* * *

The alarm's familiar drone only had to sound off once before a pale hand reached out to turn it off. She lay on her side, facing the door to her bedroom, her eyes bloodshot and dry.

This was a bad idea. A purely evil, terrible, stupid, impossible, ridiculous idea. And she had been its creator. There were so many variables in this problem, and almost all of them she was ignorant of. She didn't know what she was dealing with on a 'save the world' level, and she didn't know what she was dealing with on a 'who the hell is my partner' level. Why she had suddenly been possessed by the thought that having the God of Mischief and Deceit at her side for this mission was unknown to her. He could betray them all with the twitch of his fingers. She could be dead at his feet the moment they landed in the Barvarian Alps, and he could escape to take over another planet, if not the one she just saved.

Natasha rose from her bed mechanically, hating herself and everyone on the damn boat. She welcomed the biting cold that attacked her bare feet the moment they touched the offensive metal, cringing at the false pain that it caused. Her movement to the bathroom was slow and deliberate, trying to draw out the inevitable for as long as she possibly could before Fury would come knocking at her door.

The shower she took was ice cold, stimulating her mind and try to destroy any remnant of weariness that lingered in her. Sleep was becoming more and more difficult for the agent to manage, and every night it seemed, Loki Laufeyson had been the root of the problem. His words, his cunning smile, or the occasional genuine smile or laugh plagued her thoughts, making her toss and turn. She hadn't had a good sleep since before Loki had even come to Earth. And it was definitely beginning to take its toll on her.

As she stepped out of the shower, she beheld herself in her mirror, noticing the clear, dark bags that drooped underneath her emerald, green eyes, looking like duffel bags, stuffed to the brim. Natasha sighed before stepping into agent mode. Where she was going today, she couldn't look like the dangerous woman that she was. She had to look naïve, blissfully beautiful and ignorant of anything worse than a broken nail. Her jeans clung tightly to her legs, and the wide neckline of her red shirt exposed a decent amount of skin. She added her favorite tan, leather jacket before applying a generous amount of makeup, successfully disguising the bags. She looked fresh and beautiful.

Natasha left the bathroom then to sort and pack anything else she could have forgotten from the night before. There wasn't much, seeing as how she had done almost an OCD amount while not being able to sleep. She added her Widow's Bite bracelets to her wrists, carefully tucking them under the leather jacket to hide them. Her guns were in a separate suitcase, along with any other weapon that she possibly think of to carry. They would have to wait to be transported to Bavaria, as planes didn't allow such things. Grabbing the remaining files on the table, she gave one last sigh of resignation before leaving the room. She divested her luggage with Fury, knowing that it would be awaiting her arrival in Germany.

She stalked quickly to Loki's room, unsurprised to see the god still sitting on her chair in his normal, Asgardian gear. Just because he had agreed to go with her on the mission did not mean that he had to be happy about his predicament, and she had been sure that he was going to make it as difficult for her as he possibly could. Her plans wouldn't matter to him.

"We need to get going, Loki," she announced, folding her arms angrily across her chest as she stared at him. "And you can't go like that."

Loki merely smiled in greeting, standing from the chair and straightening out his uniform. "Better?" he teased.

"We have to blend in," she stated obviously. "You need to look like a human."

Loki seemed to be disgusted by the idea, wincing and glaring furiously at her. "What would you suggest?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Jeans. Accepted everywhere," she started. "They are pants," she cleared up when he looked no more knowledgeable. "Like mine. Except don't make them this tight. You'll get weird looks. You've seen Steve," she informed.

"The soldier," Loki agreed with a nod, black jeans appearing instead of the leathery trousers that he had been wearing before. Natasha couldn't help but snort at the half transformation, his cape still dwindling down by his ankles and making him look like a poorly dressed doll.

"Okay, no cape. Maybe a t-shirt like mine," she continued, pointing to the article on herself. He took her advice quite literally, and a clone of her shirt appeared on the god, except green in color as opposed to red. The feminine style made her laugh loudly. "No, a man's shirt," she gasped through her bouts of laughter. Loki didn't seem pleased to be made fun of, but he was managing. The shirt remained its forest green color, however it loosened dramatically and became a v-neck, cape disappearing and leaving a regular looking man in the old ensemble's place.

Her laughter was cut off instantly, and she forcefully put a stop to the sudden urge to blush at his new look. He had looked attractive before the change, but now, she realized it was going to be hard to focus on anything else but him. "Um, your hair," she continued with more shyness than before. "Cut it."

He did so, and it became curly around his head, a small goatee appearing around his chin for additional effect, and she nodded in agreement. "How do I look?" he beseeched, doing a dramatic twirl.

"Human," she hurried. "Let's go. We have a plane to catch to Germany."

Loki nodded and grabbed his own set of folders from the chair before following her out of the room. She cast a glance at him the moment they stepped foot out of the detention center. For a moment, she longed for her gun, knowing that it wouldn't do anything to stop him from doing what he wanted, but it would at least make her feel a little more secure.

He made no move, however, to break free of the group of agents that surrounded them. He looked relaxed and calm, an air of confidence about him that she found difficult to not contract herself. There was just something about walking beside him that made her feel as she was untouchable. Granted, she knew she was already rather untouchable by herself, but she really felt a sort of power flood through her system.

"You're staring," he muttered quietly so that the other agents wouldn't hear.

"Just surprised at how well you clean up," she lied, opening the conference room door to find the rest of the team and Fury perched in their regular seats, staring worriedly at Loki. Only Thor looked truly calm with what was going on around him. "I wanted to tell you that we are getting ready to leave. So whenever you want to get a jet ready for us…"

"Look at you Reindeer Games!" Tony admonished, coming up to the two of them. "You almost look like a half-decent person!"

Loki's lip twitched in contempt. "And you almost look like a dwarf," he retorted.

"Ouch," Banner mocked.

"Now, listen up, Loki," Clint barged in, doing his best to try to stare down the god, but seeing as how he was significantly shorter, it looked like a failed attempt. "You do one shady thing on this mission, I get the pleasure of being the one to put an arrow into your face."

"That's my job," Natasha interjected quite suddenly. "If anyone gets to kill him, chance goes to me," she said clearly. Everyone looked at her strangely, as if she had grown a pair of horns. "Loki and I have an agreement," she said simply, Loki ending the conversation with a nod. "He knows the limits and the consequences of not following protocol here. I made it explicitly clear last night when we discussed the mission last night. He understands."

Loki stared down at Natasha, feeling like a dog on a leash. Just her words alone were enough to make him feel utterly chained to her will, and he hated the feeling. "Immortal God is right here," he whispered into her ear, seeing her lip twitch as she fought an oncoming smirk.

"Mortal Woman doesn't care," she whispered back. "Loki and I need a ride to the airport," she continued before anyone had the chance to question the whispered interlude.

"We aren't going straight to Germany from here?" Loki asked, looking surprised.

"You didn't read the file, did you?" she guessed, staring up at him with a quirked eyebrow. At his silence, she rolled her eyes. "We're making this as authentic as possible, Loki. No affiliation with any secret organizations whatsoever. Complete back-story. I'll tell you more on the plane, but right now, we need to go." She looked down at her watch. "The plane leaves in an hour and a half."

Clint nodded firmly before purposefully grabbing his bow and quiver, looking straight at Loki as he did so. "Let's go. I'm flying you to the airport," he commanded.

"Oh, what a joyous ride this will be," Loki commented sarcastically. "There to protect your darling love for as long as possible, yes?"

"I would be there for the whole duration of the mission but -"

"How it must sting to know that your skill set is not needed here. That you, a mere mortal, the least spectacular out of all of the Avengers are going to have to sit on the sidelines, worrying over your beloved."

"Loki," Natasha warned. "Ignore him, Barton. Let's go."

Barton grumbled angrily all the way to the quinjet about if he had his way, an arrow would have gone straight through Loki's eye long before any of this had happened.

He started the plane up, a scowl still heavy on his face, making Loki smirk. Natasha sent him a disappointed glance, but the god took no notice of it. "So," he started. "I believe I may need briefing."

"Should have read the damn file," Barton snarled from the pilot's seat.

"We are posing as a couple on their second wedding anniversary," Natasha began, ignoring Clint's jab. "We are the Rushman's. Tom and Natalie. Our actual names could jeopardize the mission. Especially yours, since you kinda trumpeted the "I am Loki of Asgard" line wherever you went."

"We are a married couple?" Loki asked, surprised. "How ever did you chose this scheme?"

"It's the least suspicious," she excused. "Couples go out of country for their anniversaries all of the time. You are from London, born and raised. Only moved to the States for business three years ago. We met with you spilling coffee all over me three weeks into you living there, and there you have it. Dated for a year, you propose the stereotypical way of doing some fancy thing in Central Park in front of God and everybody. Happily ever after fairy tale ending. No kids yet."

Loki nodded in acceptance. "And what is my career?"

"Aside from being a total asshole to everybody you meet -" Barton started.

"You're a banker," Natasha interrupted. "And you are not an asshole to everyone you meet. You are a good man." She raised her eyebrows at him.

"And what do you do?"

"Notary," she answered briskly.

They arrived at the airport, Natasha grabbing two duffel bags filled with clothes. She tossed one over to Loki and took the other for herself. Barton dropped them after giving hushed words of advice to Natasha, who only nodded and rolled her eyes occasionally. Barton delicately kissed her cheek, Natasha barely noticing the moment of affection, only blinking in response to him.

They walked through the airport, handing over their passports when their fake smiling ID's.

When they finally got seated on the plane, Natasha began rubbing her temples rhythmically, trying to massage away the oncoming headache.

"Should I be playing a doting husband here?" he remarked. "Worried about your pain?"

Natasha fought the urge to glare at him. "Yes, as a matter of fact," she said. "I had hoped that that wouldn't have had to have been so much of an act, asshole. You're not at all worried about me?"

"I don't waste energy worrying about mortals," he replied easily, but reached out and began rubbing soothing circles on her back, perhaps a tad too harsh to be considered actual thoughtfulness, but it made an elderly couple in the across the aisle grin like fools.

"So I've noticed. But I'm your partner," she returned, shoving his hand away roughly and leaning back against the seat. "Your wellbeing rests on mine and -"

"No, it most certainly does not," he disagreed. "I can do anything you can do and more."

"Oh, I would most certainly love to see you attempt that," she answered with a short laugh. "But I am the one with the information, since you, genius, decided to be a slacker and not read the damn file."

Loki frowned, noticing her point. "Why do you have a headache?" he finally asked after the plane took off and was in the air. Her headache hadn't been seeming to go away, and though she tried to desperately hide the pain that she was feeling, he could see it rather clearly in her porcelain face. And, as much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he was a little worried about her.

"Maybe because I have to sit next to your stupid face for the next eight hours," she retorted angrily, casting him a glare.

"This was not my idea, remember. If I had my way, I would still be on that Helicarrier without a care in the world and praising whoever it was that took the Cube," he whispered back to her.

"Yeah, in a cage," she reminded him.

Loki shrugged, still eyeing her carefully. "Mere details. Why do you really have a headache?" he tried again. Natasha sighed, looking like she was torn from telling him and ignoring him. "You might as well tell me. If we are partners, then…"

"I can't sleep," she finally answered. "I haven't slept almost all week, and it's finally catching up with me, I guess."

"And why can't you sleep?"

"I thought that we kinda had that talk already?" she assumed.

"You're still having the nightmares?"

"You don't have to sound so smug about it, Immortal God. If I can't keep my eyes open for this mission, you can kiss your ass goodbye."

"Why don't you sleep right now?"

"Because you keep talking, dumbass. And I don't trust you not to leave me when we get to Munich," she retorted.

"What am I going to do in Munich? I don't have anything with me. My scepter is with S.H.I.E.L.D, and I obviously don't have the Tesseract."

"Fury is sending the scepter to our hotel room. It'll be there when we get there," she informed him. "Which is also something you would have known had you read the file."

"My, you do get angry when you haven't slept," he teased with a smile.

"You promise to wake me?" she asked.

"I promise," he told her.

Natasha stared at him for a moment before looking at the elderly couple across the aisle with a grand, fake smile. "Excuse me," she said softly. The old lady looked delighted to be talking to someone other than her husband who was already snoring. "Hi, I know this sounds completely uncouth, but if you could possibly make sure that my dear husband doesn't forget to wake me when we get to Germany, that would be splendid."

The lady looked rather confused by the request, but smile nevertheless. "He is an attractive man, isn't he," she started, and Natasha realized that she wasn't going to get a straight answer from her. Old folk always seemed to have that trouble. "Wherever did you find him?"

"Coffee shop," Natasha said, knowing that sleep was going to avoid her yet again. "Jerk face spilt coffee all over me, didn't you, darling?"

Loki seemed intrigued and he smiled happily, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Best accident of my life," he purred, and Natasha felt her breath catch in her throat. She had always known that Loki was a manipulator of words, and a rather good one at that, but she hadn't suspected that he would have truly stepped into the role of a loving husband so easily.

"Oh, how sweet," the lady said with big, blue eyes that seemed magnified behind her bifocals. "How long have you been married?"

"This is Tom's and my second anniversary. We thought we would take a vacation," Natasha said sweetly, relaxing her head into the crook of his shoulder affectionately, proud to feel his pulse suddenly quicken. If he wanted to play dirty, she would return the favor.

"Oh, how sweet. Bob and I have been together for forty years," she gushed. "He used to be such a handsome, heart throb. Now, he just sleeps and eats. You'll see what I mean when your man gets up there in the age tally," she teased.

"Hoping that that won't be for a long time," Natasha said, looking up at Loki who smiled blissfully at her, though she could clearly identify the falseness of the smile, just like she was sure that he was able to detect the fake sweetness in her voice when she spoke of him.

The rest of the trip didn't seem to get much better for Natasha, as the woman, who they later identified as Gertrude, talked almost nonstop. Natasha looked exhausted, and he felt rather bad after about four hours. It wasn't that much fun to watch her actually suffering, and after that four hour mark, he truly wished that Gertrude would leave her alone so that she could sleep. He had even proposed that they switch seats so that she would get the window and then Gertrude would stop talking. Or at least stop talking to her.

An hour before they were meant to land, Gertrude looked like she had an epiphany. "Oh, my dear, you were going to try to take a nap, weren't you? Oh, I feel absolutely wretched now, keeping you from your sleep, you must forgive an old lady. Once we get talking, we just can't seem to stop."

"Ain't that the truth," Bob muttered darkly, having awoken several hours prior by his wife to engage in the silly conversation.

"I assure you, it's no trouble," Natasha soothed them gently and with a breathtaking smile.

"Darling, you probably should try to get some sleep though before we land," Loki pleaded, taking her hand in his lap and looking imploringly at her. "I promise that I will wake you," he told her in a hushed voice, not wanting the annoying couple to hear.

She leaned closer to him. "Even if you didn't, I honestly wouldn't care at this point," she replied. He nodded and returned to the magazine he had been reading, releasing her hand. "Gertrude is watching," she murmured.

"And?"

"And she is expecting you to try to get me to snuggle with you," she replied obviously.

Loki chuckled. "And I'm about as likely to do that as I am to turn into a pink elephant."

"You have to play the part, _Tom." _

"Snuggling was not included in the list of parts I would have to play, _Natalie." _

"If you read the file, it would be," she retorted.

"But I didn't, so it isn't."

Natasha glared angrily at him before looking back at Gertrude. "He doesn't like doing public displays of affection very often," she excused. "Likes it to be special, and whatnot." She sent one last glare at her fake husband before snuggling into the seat and closing her eyes.

Loki set down his magazine for a moment, staring thoughtfully at her sleeping form. It was strange, he supposed. She was always so guarded whenever she was awake, dutifully hiding all forms of sentiment from everyone around her. She had looked so learned in the pains of the world when she was awake. He could tell from the depth of her green eyes that she knew darkness and evil better than perhaps any other living mortal. But now, while she slept, she looked angelic, childlike and innocent, not having a care in world. She looked so calm, the tautness of her features relaxing, and her full, pink lips almost looking like they were smiling tenderly, a sweet dream in her mind.

"You look like you really love her," Gertrude said, interrupting his thoughts for a moment, returning him to the reality where he hated the sleeping woman next to him.

"Oh, you have no idea," he enunciated, turning back to his magazine, effectively terminating the conversation.

Out of the corner of his eye, he continued to look at his partner, simply mesmerized by her sleeping. It sounded wrong in his mind, but it was true. He enjoyed watching her sleep, and he hoped that for once, she wasn't tormented by nightmares. She needed her rest.

As the plane touched down, Loki softly shook her arm, waking her with a smirk. "I told you that I would wake you," he teased, unbuckling the seat belt and standing, stretching his long and cramped legs. Eight hours in one position was definitely not what he considered to be an enjoyable experience.

Natasha groaned before standing, stretching her arms above her head and her own legs. They grabbed the duffel bags and said their adieus to the elderly couple before departing from the plane, night already seeming to begin settling in the air, leaving a frosty feeling that neither of them seemed to mind.

"I am exhausted. That lady would not shut up," Natasha complained, standing outside of the airport and searching for a taxi. "Quick, grab my hand," she urged, reaching out for him, and smiling softly as his fingers entwined with her own without reluctance.

"I found it rather funny, to be quite honest."

"You would," she snapped.

"I will have to make a note not to upset you when you're tired. I believe the saying goes along the lines of 'being a bear out of hibernation'?"

Natasha rolled her eyes before plastering another smile on her face as a taxi drove up beside them, the driver coming out to take their bags.

The ride to the hotel was silent, the driver humming poorly along to some song on the radio that neither of them recognized.

She was slightly surprised to feel him still holding onto her hand simply, staring out the window and looking at the bright lights of the city around them. It was almost soothing in a way, and she found herself not having the urge to pull away from him. When they finally did arrive to the comely hotel, the driver stuck out his hand, waiting for the money, which Natasha placed as cordially as she could into his palm. She gathered her bag, walking into the hotel with Loki following with his own bag, and still clasping her hand in his.

"Rushman," she announced to the reception desk.

The lady nodded and presented them with papers that they dutifully signed with their fake names, flashing their equally fake smiles at the woman as she handed them their room key.

"For appearances only," Natasha said tiredly as they made their way up to the room, "there is only one bed. I made sure that there would be a couch though, so you won't have to sleep on the floor." She let go of his hand.

"You're putting me on a couch? A prince?" he remarked.

"Hey, for all intents and purposes, I'm supposed to be your wife. Wife gets certain privileges. And you haven't slept in a bed in so long that I'm sure that a couch would seem like heaven to you. I need my sleep," she bickered, unlocking the door and turning on the light.

It was a quaint little room, well furnished with a rather majestic looking king size bed that was situated directly in front of a big screen television. Just as she had promised, there was a couch that was shoved against the white walls. Long and dark curtains covered a large window that no doubt displayed the majesty of the mountains.

Natasha wasted no time in finding the suitcases that Fury had sent over, opening them and finding an assortment of her favorite guns. She stroked the familiar metal, letting the coolness soothe her senses. She never enjoyed being parted from her weapons for very long, and eight hours was long enough. With a great deal of care, she unpacked the suitcase, setting one of her favorite guns under her pillow and resting some knives on the bedside table.

The other, longer suitcase, she knew carried Loki's blessed scepter, but he wasn't paying any attention to it, seeming to be preoccupied with the bed and couch.

Loki took one look at the bed and the couch, quickly noticing the size difference. "How much do you move in your sleep?"

Natasha seemed confused by the question, looking at the bed with longing. "You mean, toss and turn? Not much. I face the door all night."

"Then I do not see why we cannot share the bed," Loki argued. "I don't move in my sleep either."

"If you think that I am going to share a bed with the likes of your slimy ass, you are going to be grievously disappointed. The couch will suffice."

"No, it won't."

"Would you prefer the floor?" she rounded, staring defiantly up at him, and even though she was considerably smaller than he was, that didn't stop the nervous twitch of his hands. "I let you win on the plane; you are not going to win this one. I want the bed."

"What happened on the plane and what is happening right now are two very different things," he continued to deny. "Refusing to snuggle is not comparable to getting a bed."

"Loki, I am tired," she said in a voice that almost sounded as if she was pleading with him. The sudden change in tactics made him pause for a moment. "You can have the bed tomorrow, if you want, but I want the bed tonight. Please?"

Loki sighed, feeling her green stare penetrate every one of his walls. He knew that she was weary from the plane ride, and he knew that she hadn't been getting a lot of sleep lately. And if what she had been saying about how much partners needed to rely on one another for their own wellbeing, then he supposed that he would need her working at optimum level. He hated that that meant that he would have the couch, but it was a necessary sacrifice. "I get the bed tomorrow," he stated clearly before turning back to the tiny couch next to the bed.

Natasha smiled softly at him, though he didn't seem to notice, or rather, he was too busy with brooding over his predicament to spare her another glance. Either way, she felt relieved that he had relinquished his hold over the bed. In a way, she was surprised that he had budged at all, thinking that she would be the one to eventually end up on the couch, but he had relented. Was it at all possible that he didn't despise her as much as he tried to make her believe?

"Thank you," she said quietly before taking her suitcase into the bathroom to change into her nightwear. She felt suddenly awkward, knowing that, in a way, she was almost presenting herself to the Asgardian Prince. For her job, there weren't too many nightgowns that she had that resembled anything even loosely related to the word modest.

She bit her lip at her sudden dilemma, cursing herself for nothing thinking about it earlier when she was packing her bag on the Helicarrier. She would have to buy some other pajamas while she was there. Even though she was disappointed with her faulty action, Natasha was simply too tired to care much about it. She dressed quickly, relishing in the smooth satin of the nightgown as it glided over her skin.

Tying her robe tightly around her middle, she left the bathroom, finding Loki looking with interest at whatever was on the television. From her bed.

"I see you figured out how to work the TV," she remarked, throwing herself on the bed, laying on her back while he remained at the foot of the bed, staring at her with sudden interest. "Are you going to get off of my bed?" she asked after a moment of him still not moving.

"I think that I rather enjoy the view from here too much to leave just yet," he teased, but stood up nonetheless, walking over to the couch. "What do mortals wear for their night wear?"

Natasha ran her hand over her face. "I had some things thrown into that duffel bag I gave you. You should find something in there that should work." A rather cliché image of him accidentally delving into her bag and discovering her underwear popped into her head, and she leapt off of her bed, rushing to find him just about to open her own duffel. "I'll get it," she brushed him off, setting her bag far out of his reach and making an exaggerated effort to show which bag was his. She pulled out a t-shirt and sweatpants, knowing that seeing him bare-chested was probably not the best idea she ever had, (regardless of how much her body disagreed). "These should work just fine," she said, handing him the clothing.

Loki stared at the clothes, his body beginning to shimmer a golden color as the pajamas started to conform to him until he was standing in front of her, looking rather proud of himself and in his new sleepwear.

"I thought for sure that I had said no magic," Natasha said crudely, dismissing his smug look.

"You didn't protest this morning," he reminded.

"We were in a hurry this morning."

"I hadn't been given any other clothing to wear. How was I supposed to know what was fashionably acceptable for this realm?"

"In any case, you didn't need to use magic just now," she argued.

"Pardon my inability to read your mind and know that magic was off limits this time around."

"Oh, but aren't you supposed to be so good at reading minds?" she returned.

"With my scepter, perhaps-"

"So, you can't do anything without your stick? That's pathetic."

Loki growled, and the next thing she knew, her back was pressed firmly against the wall of the hotel room, his body looming over her with a threatening look on his face. "You will stop mocking me," he ordered, and felt a hand tighten around her throat.

Natasha grinned smugly, grabbing the offending hand and twisting it painfully until he faced away from her. She powerfully kicked his back, sending him falling forward onto the floor with a grunt. She jumped on top of him, grabbing a fistful of black hair with one hand and a knife from the table to position at his throat. "And you will stop touching me," she purred into his ear before retreating, tossing the knife to the side and climbing back into her bed, situating herself underneath the covers while he remained on the floor. "Stop being a baby; get up."

"What is it with you referring me to infants so often?" he grumbled, standing from the floor.

"The resemblance is uncanny," she replied.

Loki glared deeply at her while she simply smiled grandly at him. "I meant what I said about you ceasing to mock me."

"Just like I did about the no touching rule."

"Aren't we supposed to portray a couple madly in love?"

"Only when we are in public," she retorted smoothly. "In here, it's hands off."

Loki scoffed, walking over to the couch and plopping down onto the soft cushion. "I wonder how often you say such things to Agent Barton?"

"That's none of your concern."

"I suppose I already know the answer, since I was in his mind for a time. Do you have any idea how much that man lusts over you? He thinks you are a goddess."

"Well, good for him," she said quietly, fidgeting in the bed a little. She had always known that what Clint felt her was more than just a friendship, and his attentions terrified her. She was not made to love, to feel any kind of emotion. And what he was asking of her was something that she knew she would never be able to give to him. He would always remain her best friend and be the man she would put her trust in, but it couldn't be anything more than that.

"I personally think that the analogy is inadequate," Loki continued. "You are nothing like the women of Asgard. And they are goddesses." The words stung her more than she would have cared to admit. She had been thought beautiful by countless men and his words shouldn't have meant anything to her. But they did all the same.

Loki stared at her, waiting for her to crudely retort to his comment, but she remained silent, staring at what she called the television and firmly ignoring him. Could she be hurt by his words? He didn't think that she would when he had said them, but apparently they had done damage. He had meant the words he had said - she was nothing like the women on Asgard. The women there strangely were not much different than the women that he had encountered on Midgard. They were consumed with their beauty, or lack thereof. Natasha was stronger than the women of Asgard, and he admired her for it. There was more depth to Natasha than there was to the women there.

The sudden urge to apologize for his perhaps, cruel words surprised him. Loki was never one to feel remorse for things, as she had stated quite obviously to him. But in this case, he couldn't help but maybe feel a little guilty that his words were causing her torment.

But he was Loki, not some mewling man who bowed down to the petty sentiments of women. She was strong, and if she couldn't handle his words (though she had twisted them incorrectly), then that was of no fault of his own. He was not about to apologize for actually telling the truth for once.

"I am going to sleep now," he announced, rolling over on the couch and facing away from her, closing his eyes and ignoring her.

Natasha glanced over at his form, sighing before relaxing into the covers more and grabbing her gun under the pillow. She turned away from him, facing the door to the room and leaving her back to him. She turned off the TV, closing her eyes and trying desperately to sleep. And to forget his harsh words.

* * *

**There it is! How did you all like it? Like I said earlier, I totally hated how this chapter came out. I had such high hopes for it, but I can't seem to get it fixed up the way I want it to. But hey! This is the longest chapter so far, so there is that happy little aspect! Maybe the length will compensate for the crappiness of the chapter?**

**Anyways, review if you feel so inclined! I would love to hear from you! Even if you wish to tell me how I went totally out of character for them and stuff. It's cool. Just no flames please. Constructive criticism is welcoming, flames are not.**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	7. Building a Relationship

_**Chapter 7 - Building a Relationship**_

**I'm back! How is everyone? Still dealing with frigid temperatures over here… it has been PURE. HELL!**

**I know this is going to sound whiny, but I just wanted to send out a plea to review this story once in a while. I can see how many people are reading this story. But I wanted to say thank you to those who have reviewed. They make my day, and it's kinda sad, cause I just sit next to my phone day in and day out, checking my emails and doing a shameful happy dance when I see the "New Review" heading. Haha, alright I'll be done on that rampage.**

**Luckily, finals are completed! Passed everything! 4.02 for the semester, bitches! Haha, just had to get that off my chest. Sorry. *clears throat awkwardly***

**Disclaimer: You don't need to continuously remind me that I don't own Marvel or Tom Hiddleston. A crying author is not an author you want to read. So stop. :P**

* * *

Fury had gotten the call that they had landed safely in Munich three hours ago. Unfortunately, that wasn't exactly what the team was looking for, reassurance wise. Everyone was still stressed and mulling over the possibility that Loki could kill one of their own in a matter of seconds. They were all on edge and all waiting anxiously for the next report from the redheaded Russian.

Clint was by far, the worst out of any of them. Three times already, he had come marching to Director Fury's office, grabbing his bow and saying that he was going to follow her, and all three times, the others cooled him back down and talked him out of leaving them. The archer was angry and looking especially like he was going to kill someone.

Bruce had removed himself entirely from Hawkeye, fearing that his friend's anger would easily infiltrate the doctor's calm and collected defenses. He continued to try to find the Cube's exact location, knowing that the sooner they were able to retrieve the device, the sooner Natasha would once again be safe. Tony had naturally decided to help with the cause, acting more serious and grave than anyone had ever seen before from the egotistical scientist.

Thor had been silently assigned the team's cheerleader of sorts. Though the efforts appeared futile at times, his soothing and melodic voice could calm any of them down. His undying faith in his brother's "good guy" side kept everyone more calm

Steve felt absolutely useless. Unlike their previous mission as a team, he wasn't the leader. In fact, there really wasn't anything for him to lead. Thor seemed to have the situation handled remarkably well, considering the fact that the Tesseract had been taken yet again and he was unable to return home.

The super-soldier ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, watching as Bruce and Tony discussed something in words that he couldn't understand.

"You look like you could use a drink," he heard, and he turned slightly to see the feline-like walk of Agent Hill as she approached him, a concerned look in her brown eyes.

"That's probably an understatement. Ma'am," he added with a blush, looking down at his feet. He could almost hear Peggy in his head, accusing him of not knowing how to talk to women. She had more right than she had been wrong.

"If I wasn't on duty, I'd probably give you one," Hill continued, taking a seat next to him, watching with a look of indifference on her face as she studied the scientists.

"Do you have a mission for me?" he asked, feeling a burst of hope surge through his gut at the prospect of getting out of the ship for a few days.

Hill smiled faintly, not meeting his eyes. "I'm afraid not. I'm just supposed to be watching you guys. With the stunt that Stark pulled the last time we let him near a computer, they thought it best that he have a baby-sitter."

"He'd probably need one too," Steve agreed with a nervous chuckle.

The silence that followed was one that Steve would have loved to have said was a peaceful, soothing one like in the movies. But this one was filled with tension and awkwardness that seemed to be spilling over the edges.

"How are -"

"So how long -" Steve blushed dramatically at the verbal mistake. "You first."

"How have you been doing?" she asked lightly.

"With the mission? Well, right now I feel about as useful as a bump on a log. There is nothing here that can be possibly be aided with my help. I'm not a scientist like Stark and Banner, and Thor seems to have the comforting thing down pretty well for the Hawk."

"I meant more about your life outside of S.H.I.E.L.D actually," she clarified with a smile. "Have you become anymore acquainted with the world?"

"I haven't had time to do that," he rushed. "Quite frankly, I'm not even sure that I want to."

Hill arched an eyebrow in curiosity. "Why not? Do you think that the world is worse off than it was when you were still warring about?"

"I mean no disrespect, but ultimately, yes. Already, from being awake mere months, the planet has gone into apocalypse mode once, going on twice now."

"You were given this power in a time of trial. And you never got to take the next mission," she reminded him with a smug smile. "How is today any different than from when you were in apocalypse mode?" she added.

Steve shrugged, returning the grin. "I guess you're right… So how long have you been an agent with S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"Got recruited when I was twenty," she said shortly, any sign of amusement gone from her face. Steve bit his lip and nodded, looking down at the floor. "Don't worry about not being useful, Captain," she mentioned. "These people wouldn't be a team if it weren't for you. You're their leader, and they need you."

"To do what though?" he countered. "All of the information I know about Hydra is already in a folder that everyone has already read. What can I do?"

"You be the rock," she answered simply.

"Pardon?"

"You be the rock," she reiterated. "You be the one that everyone knows they can depend on. You be the one that is relaxed and calm and confident. I would wager that just your presence alone right now is enough to keep these guys from running around like a chicken with their heads cut off."

"Being the rock isn't what I would call helping," he argued. "I'd call it being a literal rock that doesn't know about being anything but a rock."

"Don't discredit yourself, Rogers. The people on this team, on this ship, are lucky to have you. I don't think Coulson would have put his faith in the wrong man."

* * *

"So, I did some snooping," she said clearly from the screen of her computer. She looked up at the god, lounging on the bed and flipping with boredom through the numerous channels on the TV.

"Imagine that," he said snidely.

"And there is this annual ball-like thing coming up," she continued. "A gala."

"And we are to pose as a couple here as well? With all of the back-story you're creating, Natasha, we might as well buy a house and live here."

"Stop interrupting," she dismissed. "It's a big party for all of the wealthy in the area."

"And?"

She glared harshly at him before saying, "If anyone is going to know anything about what is going on in the area, it would be the wealthy. They would have the resources to steal the Tesseract, and reinstate Hydra. Someone going to this party has to be our guy."

"When is it?"

"Tomorrow night at six. Perfect amount of time to get prepared," she relayed to him happily.

"Prepared? What could there be to prepare for?" he rounded, his blue eyes still glued to the screen.

"Well, if we are continue being a couple, I think that it would be a good idea if we actually looked the part instead of looking like we are going to bite each others' heads off at every turn."

"Everyone we have encountered thus far have believed the charade," he commented.

"And everyone thus far have been innocents and weren't expecting spies to come in and ruin their plans. We have to be more cunning than that. Whoever is in charge of Hydra now, he is going to be expecting people to try to get all of his dirty secrets."

Loki stared ponderously at her, the cogs clearly turning in his head as he mulled over her words. He had to know that she was right in her assumptions and that preparation would end up being key eventually. This was her job. And she was one of the best, if not the best, spy in the world, after all. "How would you even suggest that we prepare for something like that?" he finally questioned. "Appearing like a couple is less about practice and more about sentiment."

"You make it sound as if we should just through reason out the window and fuck each other right now to see if that helps," she commented, standing from the small table. "Which is not at all what I'm saying. That's disgusting."

"Then how?" he rounded.

"We could do something couples do…" she trailed off. Now that she thought about it, how exactly do you make yourself hate a person less? Someone like him?

"And what is it Midgardian couples do for entertainment besides fornicating?"

Natasha glared at him as she deliberated. "We could go to the movies?"

"We're in Switzerland," he reminded. "We could go for a walk through the mountains? I hear that that is supposed to be calming and relaxing."

Natasha shrugged. "Alright."

After getting themselves in proper clothing, he platonically reached for her hand, entwining their fingers as they left the hotel. It was an absurd feeling to Natasha, feeling his hand in hers. It hadn't been that she had never held hands with anyone before - she had done far more with complete strangers. When she would be on her missions with Clint, he would hold her hand, though there were times when she knew quite well that it wasn't always because the job called for it. His hand would be warm, and he would give her reassuring squeezes that would most likely surprise her instead of calming her down, like he would intend. When she would hold a mark's hand, theirs was typically clammy and timid, something that made her disgusted just by thinking of it.

But Loki's hand was unique. It wasn't clammy; it was smooth and relaxed. Maybe not as warm as her usual partner's, but it was nice. She supposed that it was because of his Frost Giant heritage. His fingers weren't timid as they clasped hers, rather quite confident. Just by the look of him, it would have seemed that he had been holding her hand for years; it just came naturally for him… and for her.

Though she abhorred the man beside her, it felt like basic instinct to hold his hand.

Loki glanced at her, noticing how she seemed to be looking quite deeply at their connected hands. "You want to me to let go?" he asked suddenly, arching his eyebrows at her in question.

Natasha blinked rapidly, staring up into his blue eyes. "It's fine," she dismissed, staring firmly ahead of her now and looking focused. Her hand, that was before soft and comforting, felt tight around his own. Now she was just holding his hand for the job, and it stung him more than he would have liked it to.

The cab ride was exceedingly awkward, having let go of the other and sitting quite obviously on either sides of the vehicle. He would send her wary glances when he figured that she wasn't looking, only to see her staring firmly out the window and her hands folded strongly in her lap.

"Ooh, talk about tension," the driver proclaimed, looking at them through the rearview mirror. She was a middle-aged woman by appearances, and looking very eager for even the slightest bit of drama. Even the Germans, it seemed weren't excluded from this typical, human stereotype, he thought sourly.

"Oh, you know how married life is," Natasha commented with a cheeriness that should have sounded fake even by the woman's standards.

"What is wrong?" she asked in a rich and thick German accent.

"I don't see how that is any of your business," Loki answered crudely.

"So, you're the culprit then, I'm guessing?" the driver continued playfully, obviously unaware of Loki's general hostility toward the woman. "What'd you do? Ruin her dress?"

"Don't worry yourself over it," Loki snarled, "You humans are far too stupid to understand." Beside him, he heard Natasha let out a loose chuckle.

"Touchy," the driver continued with a bright smile. "He cheat on you?"

"Please, just drive us to the trail," Natasha interrupted, sending Loki a small smile of amusement, her beautiful green eyes glittering for the briefest of moments before returning to their regular, hard, unforgiving emerald.

Once they finally arrived at the mountainside, Natasha eagerly paid the woman off, waving in farewell and with a bright smile. As soon as the yellow from the cab disappeared around the corner, her hand fell to her side and a scowl replaced the smile.

"I suspect that building our relationship is going to prove challenging as long as you continue to scowl like that, my dear," Loki commented airily.

"Oh, shut up, jackass," she grunted, the scowl remaining firmly on her face, making Loki smirk.

It took another half an hour before the scowl was finally removed from the agent's face, replaced by a look of determination instead, the incline of the mountain proving to be steeper as time wore on. Even Loki was beginning to look a little winded after a while. As soon as they reached the top, they both collapsed, panting as they gazed out at the small town of Munich.

"It's surprisingly lovely," Loki mentioned. "For such simpletons, your architecture is quite grand. Not nearly as magnificent as the golden halls of Asgard, but quite appeasing nonetheless."

"Well, you know us," she jested, leaning back on her hands, "We live to make our buildings aesthetically pleasing for you gods."

"No need to be sarcastic."

"Ha! The moment you stop being sarcastic will be the moment I will stop being sarcastic."

"So probably never?"

"Probably never," she agreed with a smile.

"What now?" he said after another few minutes, already feeling bored with the plain looks of the city and wishing to return back to the hotel.

"Now, I suppose we talk."

"About what?" "About anything," she retorted. "What is the fondest memory you have of Asgard?" she asked randomly and with a shrug.

"You must be joking? The place that was my prison for my entire life, and you expect me to have fond memories?"

"Well, yeah," she answered with a shrug. "You had no idea that it was a prison for the majority of that time. You still thought that you were actually related to Thor and your parents. You can't tell me that in your thousand years of life, there hasn't been at least one moment you have truly enjoyed?"

Loki pondered that for a moment, staring up at the sky where he was sure Heimdall was watching. "The first time I beat Thor is a duel," he finally stated. "Buffoon forgot that I knew how to do magic, and he - heh - I made him fall on his ass. The Warriors Three and Sif were just staring at him in shock."

"Your best memory is born out of anger and jealousy?" Natasha mused.

"Oh, and what would your best memory of the Red Room be, I wonder?" he retorted.

"You were a Prince though. That's different."

"An unloved Prince."

"Oh, stop playing that card, Loki. You know that your parents loved you. Stupid people probably love you still regardless of all the shit you've pulled. The only thing remotely close to love I ever received in that place was when I beat someone."

Loki's stare fell to her, and for a moment, he marveled at the life of the woman next to him. Such a dark existence, perhaps worse than his own, and yet, she still found some reason to smile. To not give up on the world and end it all. At least he had had royalty and excessive wealth. This woman had nothing but death and pain to her name.

"So, then what is your fondest memory in general?" he finally asked.

Natasha's lip twitched as she tried to fight a smile. "Beating Clint for the first time," she answered. Loki couldn't help but laugh at the hypocrisy of her answer, and it wasn't very much longer until her melodic laughter chimed in with his own. It had been so long since he had truly laughed, and it wasn't long until they both fell backwards, clutching their stomachs as they gasped for air.

When the laughter finally died away, an awkward silence enveloped them both, each casting nervous glances at the other.

"So, um, where is Asgard?" she finally asked, looking at the sky which was now beginning to dim at the day began to fade. Faint little twinkles of stars were starting to peep out of their dark abyss, shining like beacons for lost travelers in the sea of darkness above. "Is it like a star or something?"

"It's a planet, much like Earth," he said calmly. He pointed to their right. "That's Jotunheim. Or at least where it would lie."

"Have you been there?" she asked in wonderment.

"Yes," he muttered darkly, staring at the expanse of sky with mistrust.

"What's it like?" she continued. He looked thoughtfully at her, astonishment to not see fear on her face as she spoke of the realm. She seemed so curious, eager to know anything about the worlds beyond her own. She wasn't like humans in that way either. Humans, he realized, were so content to know what they did, and it was a rare individual who would truly aspire to acquire all forms of knowledge they could. Natasha happened to be one of those rare people, and her interest in the planet made him smile.

"It's cold, for starters," he began. "Very much in shambles, really. I never saw it when it was at its greatest glory, but I assume that it had once been very rich in culture. There had been a time when Jotunheim had come to Earth, meaning to take over."

"Like you?" she asked.

"No, not like me. They trampled everything in their path, freezing the world as they went. I believe you call it an ice age. Many died. Asgard however, came to your aid and saved you from certain death. As my father describes it, he drove the Frost Giants back into their own home, taking their source of power. It's why Jotunheim is no longer one of the stronger realms. It sits in space, practically gathering dust."

"And that's where you come from," she stated.

"It is my birth place, yes. I'm Laufey's son. The King's."

"So, in a way, you're King of Jotunheim," she pointed out.

"I suppose. Though I would never venture to rule that race. They are worse than humans."

"Tell me more," she pleaded. "You've just said that it's cold and in shambles. Don't let that silver tongue stop you from telling me."

"Those are really the only words I can think of to describe it though," he insisted. "When I arrived, there were actually shards of rock that were plummeting off of mountain sides and crumbling. There was ice everywhere, as you would expect. Though there was this huge dog-like animal that nearly killed the six of us while we were there. It had these strange horns in the front of its face, and teeth as large as myself."

Her eyes widened with the tale, completely mesmerized. "And how did you get away?"

"Well, Thor actually flew through its mouth when Mjolnir, driving a hole through the back of its head. It was quite stunning."

"So, you didn't kill it with your magic?"

"How do you kill a beast the size of a house with magic?"

"Stop its heart, obviously."

"Well, when you figure out that spell, be sure to let me know. I have the perfect woman I would like to use it on," he remarked, feeling her roughly punch his arm.

"You don't get to kill me with magic, Loki," she declared.

"And who made that rule?"

"I did. If I am letting you kill me, then I think that I have the right to say that you don't get to use magic. Regardless of how cool it would be."

"That's ludicrous. I'm not going to follow that rule," he bickered.

"I should just kill you now and get it over with, shouldn't I?" she snapped.

"Yes, but you regretfully need me on this mission, don't you?" he teased.

Natasha grumbled unhappily, folding her arms across her chest. "So, again, where's Asgard?"

Loki smiled, playfully bumping her with his elbow and getting a bump in return. "Practically straight ahead," he answered truthfully. "Now, that place is one to behold. The skies are more than just the typical blue of Midgard. They're orange and yellow and pink. And the clouds look like innocent puffs in the sky. The sun shines so bright, and makes the entire palace glitter."

"That sounds so predictable though," she said. "It sounds like heaven."

"Perhaps Thor will take you and your other Avengers there with him one day when he is King," Loki growled darkly. "You can make fun of my punishment, whatever it may be."

"The others don't really have that kind of… affinity," Natasha said uncomfortably. "They don't like seeing pain with people. They're good guys, through and through. I'm not. I kinda pride myself on being able to see people tortured."

"You're not very much like them, are you? In any way?" Loki surmised. Her lips pursed tightly before she turned her head away from him completely. "I wouldn't be ashamed of it. The good guys will never be able to feel the pleasure from being bad."

"Or we'd never feel the pleasure of being good," she responded, throwing him into that category.

"I disagree," he argued. "There is always redemption, Natasha. But being bad, there's an adrenaline rush that just flows, isn't there? An excitement that wouldn't be there otherwise. The thought that there is always someone behind you. There is never a dull moment, just constant adventure. And plus, being bad? No one expects you to do the right thing - something that so many find difficult doing. You aren't bound by their moral code, and they know that."

"You've forgotten about the guilt that follows you though," she reminded, turning over to face him. "The pain that rips through you when you close your eyes. The memories of seeing children's faces just after you've murdered their mother or their father. Hearing the screams ring through your ears the moment your finger closes around that trigger and you know that you're the cause of them. How can that be good? Everyone else, their consciences are clear -"

"Oh, I highly doubt that," Loki interrupted, rolling over like she had. "Everyone in the Avengers is teaming with guilt over one thing or another. Stark sold weapons to his enemies and saw the effects of them for his own eyes. The beast feels guilt over everything he has done to devastate families and cities. The soldier feels like he is responsible for the death of his best friend. Thor feels guilty for the time when he courted war and needlessly caused pain for the people around him. Even your precious Hawkeye feels guilt for ever hurting you and for the things that he did while he was under my control. But you're missing the point. Yes, you're the bad guy; you've caused pain and agony for the world around you. Yet, you've accepted that you're the bad guy. You come to expect no less of yourself. You expect yourself to lie and kill, so when that happens, it doesn't bother you. It went according to plan. With the others, it hurts more because they think themselves above hurting others. It is never their intention for their friends or family to get hurt, so it causes more grief when such a thing does happen."

"I don't see them lining up to be bad though," Natasha said in soft and meek voice, a voice that seemed so impossible coming out of her confident and smug mouth.

"Because they are bound by the moral code that the world has placed on them," he countered easily. "Besides. Bad is just a matter of perspective. Through S.H.I.E.L.D's eyes, you're good."

"I'm on a threat list, Loki," she groaned.

"All of you are, I thought," he retorted. "Through your team's eyes, you're good."

"Just because someone thinks of me that way doesn't make me that way," she bantered.

"Well, then I would be more inclined to think that if such a large majority thinks of you this way, they are more likely to be correct than you alone are," he said calmly.

"Do you think I'm good?"

"And why do you care about my opinion?"

"Because if a bad guy thinks I'm good then that may mean something more than a good guy thinking that I'm good," she answered easily.

Loki sighed, staring deeply into her eyes as he though of his answer. "I think that you have a darkness inside of you that isn't going to go away. You have red in your ledger, and given by the amount, I don't think that you could wash it all away. You will fight for your entire life to erase your past deeds but they are always going to haunt you as long as your allow them to."

Her eyes watered. "You didn't answer the question."

Loki grit his teeth, wishing that this was the one moment where he could lie and say what she wanted to hear. But he couldn't. "No. I don't think that you are truly good. I think that you are self-serving. I think that your actions, though, are good. You recognize that moral barrier, and that keeps you from acting on your own desires and wishes. But your thoughts speak differently, don't they?"

Natasha nodded, swallowing and looking sad. "I'm a monster."

"And you've already pointed out that I am as well," he added. "But unlike me, you're only a monster in your head. I'm a monster in every category. So, I suppose that that makes you better than me."

"I think Satan himself is better than you," she said, blinking the tears from her eyes and giving him a tiny smile.

"Well, we were partners for a time," he agreed with a chuckle. "It's getting late," he mentioned, casting a glance at the darkening sky. "And I assume that mountains aren't the warmest of places with the sun gone," he continued.

"I'm from Russia," she retorted. "You don't know cold until you've lived there."

"Did you suddenly forget about our whole discussion of the coldness of Jotunheim?" he teased, standing from the ground and wiping away any remnants of dirt that had accumulated on his clothes. "We still need to walk down this mountain, and I would rather do so when I can actually see where I am putting my feet, if you don't mind." He hesitated for a moment before reaching his palm out for her to take. She stared at the outstretched appendage with a certain kind of wariness that only the Black Widow could master. She reluctantly grabbed his hand, stifling the shiver from running down her spine at the surprising warmth of it. Within an instant, she was on her feet, meeting the wicked smile of Loki.

When they arrived back at the hotel, both were decidedly exhausted from their hike, both barely making it through the door and then both dropping simultaneously to the floor, their backs pressed the fake wood of the door.

"You would think that going down would be a lot easier than going up," she commented loosely.

"Well, if it hadn't been for that watchman who said we would have to turn around and go back up the mountain and take the longer path through the mountains, I think we would have been better off," he added in a grudged voice.

"I don't even understand why he made us do that. You should have teleported us out of there."

"You don't want me to use magic."

"When we are about to collapse from exhaustion, I think it would have been a good substitute."

"Fancy how you tell me this now, after we've gotten back and everything," he relayed, sending her a glare. "I would have very much appreciated just teleporting back here."

Natasha let out a harsh laugh, looking fondly at the bathroom door. "I really need a shower," she commented lightly.

"I'm going first," he stated quickly, hopping to his feet and lunging for the door. Natasha stood and leapt on his back, wrapping her limbs around his body.

"I called it first!" she yelled, throwing herself backwards to keep him from reaching his destination. It must have been quite a sight, she figured - a small woman with her body entirely wrapped around a rather large man reaching with desperation for the bathroom door.

"Get off of me!" he yelped, trying to pry her hands away from his neck.

"I'm letting you have the bed tonight!" she claimed. "The least you could do is let me shower first!" she shrieked, feeling her back thump painfully against a wall.

"You got both last night!"

"Oh, come on! We had been in a plane! Not hiking through the fucking Alps!"

There was a sudden knock at the room door, and both froze in shock. She released her hold on him immediately, and she saw Loki begin straightening out his clothes.

She stared through the peephole, wanting to reach down and grab the butt of her gun, but she knew it wouldn't be there. "Quick, get the door," she commanded, rushing to the bed and digging her precious gun out from underneath her pillow, turning the safety off and cocking it.

Loki opened the door, meeting a shy looking maid who blushed furiously at the sight of the god. "Why are you here?" he questioned angrily, leaning against the doorframe. Natasha approached them, easily slipping on a bright face. She wrapped her gun hand around his waist, hiding the piece of artillery expertly.

"Well, there are, um, there are other guests, sir. And, heh, they, well, they're wondering if you could, perhaps, I mean, like if it's not too much trouble, if you could possibly keep it down?" she rushed out, her accent almost covering the message entirely.

Natasha smiled warmly at the woman, answering in perfect German, "We do apologize. We just love to wrestle, don't we, my love?" she teased, bumping Loki who nodded, hoping it was the answer she was looking for. "It shouldn't be a problem," she finished.

The woman nodded, moving her gaze to Loki and blushing even further, her face turning a beet red that made Natasha antsy. She didn't know why, but she hated the way that the maid was looking at her partner. It was a look of adoration, no doubt - it was clear and impossible to hide on her face. The agent wasn't sure whether she hated it because the maid didn't know who Loki was or what he had done, or whether she was angry that the woman had a clear interest in the man who was pretending to be her husband. Jealousy had never been a becoming emotion for her, and she prayed to whatever God was out there that that was not was she was currently feeling.

"Anything else?" Natasha asked roughly, the smile having disappeared from her porcelain face, and a glare taking its place.

"Um, no. Good night…" the maid hurried, taking her leave finally.

Natasha turned the safety back on her gun as soon as she had closed the door, trying to hide the content she felt at the woman's departure.

"I've noticed something," Loki commented, leaning against the door now, and staring at her with a facial expression she was unable to read.

"Oh, God, here we go. Just go take your blasted shower. I promise I won't jump on you this time," she dismissed, placing her gun back under her pillow.

"Typically, when we encounter locals, you seem quite bright and happy," he continued, ignoring her request. "Yet with that woman just now, you seemed… unpleasant."

"Maybe it was just because I wasn't done kicking your ass yet," Natasha grumbled, sitting at the edge of the white sheeted bed and turning on the TV, refusing to look at the Asgardian Prince.

Loki chuckled, a sound that made Natasha flinch in current circumstances. She knew where he was going with this, and she was terrified of the question. "Could it be? The famous, unfeeling Black Widow possibly feeling… dare, I say it? Envious?" "That woman had nothing that I wanted - there was nothing to be envious of," Natasha retorted. "Take your shower before I change my mind."

"She had my attention," Loki brushed her off.

"And what makes you think that I crave that so terribly?"

Loki shrugged, walking over to the bathroom and disappearing inside, the water turning on a moment later. She let out a sigh of relief, throwing herself back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling with contempt. Could he have been right on any account? Was there a part of her that had actually been jealous of the attention (granted it wasn't polite attention) to the woman at the door?

In the time he was in shower, she called Fury, quickly relaying all forms of information to the director, including the plans to attend the gala the upcoming evening. He seemed pleased with their current progress. Though when he asked what they had been doing, she had hesitated. She didn't enjoy lying to the man who had given her her life back, but she definitely didn't want him knowing about the time she had spent with Loki today. So she excused the question by saying weapons training. That was relatively simple, wasn't it? Acceptable?

After five minutes, he emerged from the bathroom, hair still dripping. But that wasn't exactly what had caught her attention - he was in a towel. Nothing but a towel, wrapped around his hips. Natasha made a firm effort to deny herself the urge to stare. She had seen many men in her lifetime, and there had been muscles in the world that had truly sent her shivering. Thor's muscles were breathtaking, Steve's, even Clint's to a degree were not painful at all to stare at. She should not have been surprised to see that he wasn't like his brother that way. His muscles were still, without a doubt, defined, but much more lithe and agile, more like they had been carved instead of fought for. It wasn't another minute that she saw his quirked eyebrow at her, and she blushed, focusing her gaze back on the ceiling and ignoring the shuffle he created to dig out his nightwear. "Don't stop looking on my account," he teased, throwing the shirt over his head. At his movement to remove the towel to put the sweats on, she leapt from the bed, grabbing her own nightclothes and running into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

It had probably been the coldest shower she had ever taken in her life, and even still, she couldn't get the image of his finely sculpted chest out of her mind. It was going to drive her mad, without question. And she hated it.

She exited the bathroom warily, almost expecting to see him still in the towel, but sighed in relief/disappointment at the sight of him in the black sweats, lounging on the bed with the remote in his hand. Much like she had seen him the night before.

"You couldn't take your clothes in the bathroom with you?" she asked rudely, sitting down on the couch, and glaring at him.

"I forgot," he excused with a grand smile that made her torn between glaring at him and returning the smile. He stood from the bed and came to join her on the couch. His arm brushed against hers, making her gulp at the feel of his skin on hers. It was wrong. That was what she continuously told herself. Being attracted (devilishly) to the mass murderer next to her was wrong. There would be nothing at all she could do to redeem herself if she acted on her desires. He was a terrible person, who showed no remorse for killing people and tearing others apart. He was tyrannical and she needed to continue to hate him. "Aren't you going to go to sleep?" he asked lightly, appearing unaware of her mental battle.

"Get off of the couch; I'm not snuggling with you," she growled, closing her eyes and refusing to look at him. He was manipulating her, and she hated it. He had to see how he was affecting her, and she knew that he was enjoying every moment of it.

"Oh, and you were once so open to the idea," he teased, and she felt him bump her with his elbow. "Take the bed. I'll take the couch."

"I had the bed last night. We agreed that we would switch off," she mentioned, keeping her green eyes determinedly closed.

"Yes, but you are mortal, and sleep is more precious for your kind than it is for mine. The couch will suffice. Just take the bed, Natasha," he argued.

She opened her eyes, seeing him looking fiercely at the floor. "Thank you," she mumbled, moving over the bed. She faced herself away from him, facing the door.

His generosity surprised her, and she actually found herself smiling at thought that maybe he wasn't as evil as she had once thought. There was a part in him that could be kind and sweet, even though it wouldn't come out very often. She wondered how many people had seen the side of him that she just had. His mother? Perhaps. His brother, most definitely.

As she snuggled down further into the sheets, hand entwining itself around her gun, a waft of old parchment glided through her nose. Loki. The thought made her grin even further, and she snuggled further into the scent, letting herself bathe in the soothing smell. Sleep had never been so kind.

* * *

**My, my, my! There we are! I do apologize for this taking so long. This was another one of those chapters where nothing seemed right and I had to start over a couple times. Hate it when that happens, you know?**

**Yeah, they aren't sleeping in the same bed yet, I know. Sad face. But, hey! We had practically a whole chapter of just building on their romance, right? Got some lovely BlackFrost time, and he even let her have the bed! So that has to amount up to something, right? At least I hope so. We are getting there, I promise. Bed-sharing it something I have on my to-do list. Just not yet. Have to stay in character.**

**I apologize if I offended anyone out there with the chapter. I don't mean to make it sound like German people are the enemy here. The majority of my ancestry is German, so don't think I'm hating on you guys. It wouldn't matter where Nat and Loki are - they just hate people in general. Probably would hate me too if we ever actually met. (dang, that's depressing)**

**Hope you guys don't hate me for the "bad guy" conversation. That would suck. Oh, and part of my inspiration came from the Joker in Dark Knight, so don't sue!**

**Anyway, leave a review if you feel so inclined! Perhaps we can reach 30 this time, yeah?**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	8. Let's Go Teamwork!

_**Chapter 8 - Let's Go, Teamwork!**_

**Wow! 11 reviews! That's absolutely incredible guys! I can't say thank you enough! You guys make me smile like an idiot in the middle of class when I'm checking my email, and then my teachers look at me like I'm high or something. High on reviews! Haha, anyway thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!**

**Disclaimer: Marvel is not mine. I'm a lowly teenager who is just madly in love with Tom Hiddleston.**

* * *

Natasha rolled over onto her back, her green eyes opening and a loose sigh escaping her lips as she stared up at the ceiling. Her hand unconsciously squeezed around her gun, checking to make sure that it was still there and smiling faintly when she felt that it was.

She sat up unceremoniously, running a hand through her red curls and casting a glance at the still dormant god splayed out on the couch. The piece of furniture was entirely too small for him, she realized. Not only was the length of his form too long (his feet were currently dangling off the side of the couch) but it wasn't overly wide either, and the broadness of his shoulders were tilted at an awkward angle to ensure he didn't fall off.

She felt slightly guilty as she continued to stare at him. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so terrible for her to sleep on the couch. She was definitely smaller in stature and would have fit comfortably there. And there had been worse places she had slept in, and surely a couch wouldn't have been placed at the bottom of the list. Natasha would have to be sure to let him have the bed tonight.

She rose from the bed, grabbing her green robe and tying it around her waist. She debated on waking him, as it was 0600 hours and they probably needed to get up and talk about the plan for tonight. But then there was that little, gentle voice in her head that wanted to let him sleep just a little longer. She had already robbed him of a good night's sleep, she might as well let him rest for as long as he possibly could. It couldn't hurt, the voice persuaded.

With that thought, she dragged out her cell phone, walking into the hall of the hotel to dial Fury and let him know that things were still good at their end.

"How are things coming with locating the Tesseract?" she asked quietly, praying that there wouldn't be any maid that would try to walk by at the moment.

"Not very well, unfortunately," he answered with a dreary sigh. "We're about as close to it as we were when you and Loki were still here. Barton's been trying to scrounge up any whiff of Hydra's current activities with Rogers assisting, but the task has been fruitless. They've been pretty well hushed up at the moment." There was a silence as Natasha stared at the room door ahead of her blankly. "How's the god?" Fury asked suddenly, making the spy blink rapidly, coming back from her pensive thought.

"All is well," she said simply. "He hasn't elected to cause any trouble. Doesn't seem too keen on being here some of the time, but understands the importance of the mission regardless."

"Has he been any help?"

Natasha bit her lip as she pondered the question. In all honesty, no, he hadn't been any help. He had been sitting on the bed for the past two days watching television while she researched manically on her little laptop for information. "Yeah, he's been helping," she lied. "Knows more about the Cube than I do anyways," she continued. Why she wanted to lie about something like that, she wasn't sure; she just knew that whatever Fury's actions would be hearing the truth would probably be actions that she wouldn't like.

Fury sighed, accepting the lie. "Alright. Call back after the gala," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," she readily replied, hanging up a second after and sighing again.

Natasha walked back into the room, knowing that she shouldn't have been surprised to see Loki on the bed, flipping through the channels, blue eyes glued to the screen. "How much of that did you hear?" she asked, closing the door behind her and leaning against it.

"Enough to know that you lied," he said, turning the TV off and looking interestedly at her. "May I ask why you would do such a thing?"

She focused evenly at the dull brown carpeting of the room. "I'd like to know the answer myself, to be honest with you," she finally responded.

"What do you think Fury's response would have been had you told him the truth?" Loki quipped. "I haven't helped in the slightest, and you know it." "I'm not sure. Probably something that would jeopardize the success of this mission, and that was something that I wouldn't have been able to handle."

"You mean that he would have pulled me from the mission," Loki remarked.

"I meant exactly what I said, Loki. If you think that I really want you around here for any other reason besides the mission, then you are sorely mistaken. As soon as this is done, I'm going right back to plotting your death." "I wasn't implying that you did, Agent Romanoff," the god said cheekily; she could practically hear the smile on his face when she realized that he had caught her. "So, that would suggest, if I may so bold -" he continued.

"You may not," she ordered, finally looking up from the carpet to look at him evilly.

"that there is a part of you that wants me around for other reasons besides the mission," he finished. "Perhaps an subconscious thought, yes, but it is there."

"Don't flatter yourself," she barked. "I hate you."

"Hatred is quite a bold word, wouldn't you say?"

"I would say that it's an appropriate word in this case."

"Hatred is quite a close relative to Love, or so I'm told."

"Which is for children. Something that I am not."

"Then, according to your logic, Hate would also be children, would it not?"

"Stop twisting my words. I hate you, and that's all there is to it." She began walking to the bathroom, but stopped short as a thought flashed across her mind as she reached for the door handle. She turned quick and looked with horror at him. "You said that Hatred is a close relative of Love…"

"I did."

"You don't love me… do you?" she said quietly.

"Now who is flattering themselves?" he mocked. "Rest assured, I have no attraction to spiders."

Natasha nodded wordlessly, dodging into the bathroom and pressing her back tightly to the door and sinking to the white tile. Her whole body felt weightless, and not in a fun way. Instead of butterflies in her gut, she felt more like she had turned into air, sweat pooling on her head. This was bad.

No, she didn't love him, but the thought that he might was terrifying to her. At that moment, she pondered calling back Fury to have him come pick Loki up. She could complete the mission on her own. She didn't need him there with her. Hell, Thor would be a fine substitute, even if he wasn't cunning. Or Barton, even though he knew nothing about the Cube compared to the Asgardians. Maybe, she could play a polygamist and have them both in trade for Loki?

Now she was just being ridiculous. Natasha Romanoff was not a woman to cave under pressure, and she was not going to allow Loki the pleasure in knowing that his words got under her skin. She was the greatest spy in the world, and if there was ever a woman who could hide her emotions, it was her. God of Lies or not, he would not know the mental torment that he had caused her. She would make sure of it.

Loki grinned as he stared at the bathroom door, reclining more into the bed and resting a hand behind his head.

Then a whiff of that sweet vanilla swept through his nose, and the smile was gone in an instant. Damn her. Whether she used the scented shampoo purposefully to terrorize his senses, that didn't matter. The fact of the matter was, was that she was getting to him. Everything about her appealed to all of his senses, and he hated that. She was beautiful, her voice sounded like bells, her touch was electrifying, and her scent drove him mad.

Love was something that he had agreed wholeheartedly with her about - it was for children and was nothing but a fantasy. But Love and Lust were far different unfortunately, and Freya had seemed to curse him from Asgard, the whore.

She emerged from the restroom moments later, looking only a little paler than usual but still determined in whatever she seemed to be doing. "We need to discuss what we are going to do tonight," she started, sitting down on the bed with him and looking strongly at him, all emotions gone from her face. "I suspect that we are going to need to present invitations to the event."

"Things that we do not have," he stated obviously.

"That's why you are going to put our names on the list of invited," she finished.

He raised an eyebrow. "You are permitting me to use magic?"

"I'm saying that it's the only way we are getting in that place."

He shrugged. "Fine. What then?"

"Well, then we have to find whoever is in charge of Hydra," she replied.

"And how do you suggest we do that?"

"Oh, come on, don't tell me that you suck at observing mannerisms, Loki. I suspect the guy is going to look nervous, probably not talking to many people, kind of reserved. After we pinpoint those people, we just talk to them and hope that someone spills the beans that they are up to something. Tail him until he goes to the secret lair, and there it is."

"Your plan seems too simple," Loki disagreed.

"That's just condensing it into a few sentences, Loki," she excused.

"And what happens if something goes wrong?" he retorted.

"You mean if he catches us?" she clarified. "How is he going to catch the God of Mischief and the greatest spy in the world?"

"You sound overconfident," Loki continued.

"Remind you of anyone?" she teased, arching a perfect eyebrow at him in question. Loki remained silent, staring imploringly at her. "I understand that in every situation, there is a chance that something could possibly go wrong, but this guy, whoever we are dealing with, he isn't going to be a professional. He just got his hands on the Tesseract; he is in a state of waiting. He's waiting for his time to shine. Waiting creates impatience, hence sloppiness. Now," she stated, "can you ever feel the Tesseract's energy? Like, if we got close to this guy's lair, would you be able to track it?"

"Magnetism?" Loki supplied, getting a nod from the woman in front of him. "No. My magic does not work like that."

Natasha sighed, rubbing her temples. "Alright, fine."

The rest of the day seemed to follow along that line of thinking, constantly suggesting ideas and grand plans to find the Cube once again. Her ideas were surprisingly well thought out. She was more focused than he had ever seen her, her eyes fixed in determination as she would stare at the computer screen, typing away furiously at the keys. There was never a moment of silence, it seemed, just constant typing and speaking.

When it became 5:00 in the evening, she stopped and moved to her suitcase. "We need to start getting ready," she commanded easily. "I packed you a tuxedo -"

"A what?"

"It's a suit," she explained. "Why don't you go change into that - wait, take a shower first and then get into the suit. Please, do not wrinkle it. We need to look wealthy and going with a rumpled suit is definitely not a good way to do that."

Loki rolled his eyes, taking out the suit and heading into the bathroom. His shower was brief and when he came out of the bathroom with the suit, he couldn't deny the feeling of importance coursing through him. He almost felt like a prince again - a feeling that had for so long abandoned him, and there it was again. He was regal and majestic, just like a prince should be, he thought with a grim smile.

Natasha nodded appreciatively as she appraised him, walking in circles around him and straightening the fabric out when needed. "You almost look handsome," she teased, taking out a bottle of amber liquid and spraying it on his front.

"What was that?" he demanded, a strange smell going through his nose that made him grimace at the grotesqueness of it.

"It's called cologne," she replied. She grabbed at the black strip of cloth going down the front of his body, tightening it up to his neck almost enough to make him gag. "You did surprisingly well with the tie," she commented. "I almost expected that I was going to have to do it."

"I've worn one before. Or at least seen how they are meant to look," he answered.

She smiled, looking at him for a moment, her hand still laying against his chest. It was a moment that he wasn't sure if it was awkward or not. It certainly wasn't normal for them to exchange this form of physicality, but at the same time, it felt natural.

Her green eyes blinked, and the moment had passed, her hand falling from his form and her gaze being swept to a dress on the bed. He focused on it for a moment, and in less than a second, the black gown became an emerald green, much like her robe.

"Change it back, Loki," she said immediately, rushing to the dress and taking it in her arms like an injured child. "I like it black."

"And I like it green," he replied. "And you do look so very ravishing in green," he praised.

"If I wanted a green dress, I would have brought a green dress. I wanted my black one," she argued. "Change it back."

"Natalie, my darling, we will be late to the party if you continue to stall this way," he teased.

The glare he got probably could have murdered a mortal man in twenty different ways, but he paid no mind to it. "I hate you," she growled, marching into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her.

After an hour and a half, she finally came out of the little room, smoothening out the green skirt. "This dress wasn't meant to be green, jackass," she mentioned.

Loki instantly felt his silvery tongue to lead in his mouth as he beheld her. The dress fell just beyond her knees, leaving her long shins and calves exposed for his eyes. The rest of the dress clung tightly to her well sculpted form, framing her breasts almost too perfectly. Her face was adorned with only a little makeup, green tracings around her eyes, he noticed fondly. Natasha Romanoff had to be the most attractive woman on Midgard - nay, even on Asgard! - that he had ever seen.

"Well?" she demanded, throwing her hands out. "Good enough, Your Majesty?" she mocked.

"I daresay that the other women at this event will despise you almost as much as I do," he finally answered, trying to disguise the lust that was no doubt apparent in his eyes.

Natasha seemed happy with this response, walking over and digging out a pair of high heel shoes and holding them in front of his face. "If I'm going in green, I can't very well have black shoes. Make them green," she demanded.

He did as she asked and watched in fascination as she slipped them on, standing a good four inches taller than before. "Will you not fall?" he asked sarcastically.

"These aren't even my tallest," she told him. She hung two, silver hoops from her ears, and grabbed a silver handbag before folding her hands in front of her and staring at him. "Whenever Immortal God feels like getting a move on," she remarked.

"Only waiting for Mortal Woman's dress-up hour to be finished, obviously," he started, standing from the bed and offering her his arm.

They walked delicately out to the front of the hotel, a stylish black vehicle waiting for them. He quickly cast a curious glance to her. "S.H.I.E.L.D is everywhere," she replied, climbing in.

As they approached their destination, she fished out two immaculate rings from her handbag, passing a plain, golden one to him and putting it on one of his fingers, looking satisfied to know it wouldn't slip off accidentally. Next, she added one to her own finger, this one with a silver band and with a multitude of sparkling diamonds on them. "This just proves that we're married," she told him. "And remember, we're madly in love. You're going to have to break the PDA rule."

"The what rule?" he quipped.

"Public Display of Affection rule, Tom," she said cheekily.

The house they came up to was rather majestic in size, Natasha couldn't doubt that. It looked almost as big as their hotel, adorned with beautiful carvings in the stone walls and pillars. Other sleek cars were pulling around to the front of the abode, women in glittering dresses and men in sharp suits stepping out with an air of snobbishness about them.

As the two of them stepped out, her smiling face bloomed and her eyes dazzled. Loki reached for her hand, entwining their fingers, and for a moment, Natasha allowed her smile to grow even larger at the contact. She felt a little more at ease as they approached a woman with a clipboard and pen. "Invitations?" she asked in English. "Oh, see we have unfortunately misplaced those," Natasha started.

"But our name should be on the list," Loki finished for her.

The woman looked slightly disturbed but nodded anyways. "Names then?"

"We're the Rushman's," Loki proclaimed.

The woman scanned through the long list of names for a moment. "Tom and Natalie?" she asked.

"That would be us," Natasha answered with a smile.

"Alright - you may go inside," the woman said, already turning to the couple behind them.

She supposed they may have underestimated the number of wealthy people that would be attending the event. There already had to be at least two hundred people there, and they needed to find just one. The task seemed daunting, though she maintained her confidence. "Now, darling, remember, we are looking for the outcast of the group here," she whispered into his ear seductively.

He turned to her a moment later, letting go of her hand and wrapping it around her small waist instead, a shiver making its way up her spine. "There is a man over there - by the pillar - who seems unnaturally cut off from the group."

Natasha nodded in approval, and they began making their way over to said man, smiling a breathtaking smile once they came up to him. "Quite the party, isn't it?" she started, gesturing to the masses of people currently dancing.

"Quite," the man grumbled, taking a glass of champagne from one of the servants. Loki grabbed two and passed one to Natasha.

"Do you not like them?" she inquired.

"I hate people," the man muttered, downing the glass.

"I can sympathize," Loki acknowledged, sipping peacefully at his own glass. "Sir, I beseech you, get out while you can. I doubt the entertainment will get much better from here on out."

Natasha stared dumbstruck at the man who was supposed to be her husband. She let out a fake giggle, playfully slapping his arm perhaps a little harder than was necessary.

The man nodded and scurried off, disappearing out the door a moment later. "I can't believe you!" she exclaimed, hitting him once more. "You can't just chase away a suspect! He could very be heading back to his lab right now!"

"He isn't the thief," Loki said calmly, looking at all of the other people in the room.

"And you know this how?"

"I just do. The man genuinely despises humanity and doesn't wish to take part in it. We need to find another suspect."

"Yeah, and next time, clue me in the moment you decide to send off a guest," she spat.

"Darling, you need to appear more loving to your husband, do you not?" he teased, giving her a large smile that made her pause for the briefest of moments.

"I'm beyond loving, Tom," she growled. She cast her gaze back into the pool of suspects. It was times like these where she truly felt like the spy that she was. This was her element - find the one in two hundred. Pick up all of the details, process them, and decide whether they are worth the effort. All in a matter of seconds. Her shrewd eyes felt like they could see absolutely everything, it was all crystal clear. Everything else in her life was tossed to wayside and the mission became the number one priority.

After an hour, they had interrogated some dozen other possible suspects, each of them seeming more improbable than the last. She was beginning to feel as if she were at her wits end, and she hated it. Finding a mark had never been so problematic to her. Even when she first was training to be a spy, she would have pinpointed the culprit by now.

"We need to try a different tactic," she decided. "We are looking for the wrong triggers. This guy has the most powerful weapon in his possession. He's untouchable. Probably wants to show it off - like he doesn't have a care in the world, you know?"

Loki nodded in agreement, both setting their gaze for the new traits.

"Natalie, love, I do believe that we may have a bit of a situation," Loki whispered into her ear, cold peppermint breath gliding past her cheek and making her muscles loosen slightly. "For I do believe that that man is supposed to be dead. Unless my eyes are tricking me, and they rarely ever do."

"Where?" she demanded in a low voice.

"Quite like the new traits we were searching for. Seems to be the magnet of attention at the moment. He's in the middle of that crowd there. Rather tall fellow."

"Careful, dear, you sound like you're in love," she mocked, unable to see the man Loki was speaking of. "Who do you think it is?"

"I believe the file called him Johann Schmidt," Loki answered, making her blood run cold.

"I thought you didn't read the file," she said breathlessly.

"I did a little during your nap on the plane," he explained. "But is that really the main concern right now, darling?"

"We need to call Fury with the update. This is not at all what we had planned for," she whispered tightly. "We should say hello and then leave."

"Is that fear, I'm hearing, Black Widow?" he teased, his hold around her waist feeling tighter and more constricting than ever as his voice slid over her cheek, nose buried in her hair.

"Not at all. Just thinking logically about what Fury would want us to do. Steve knows a lot about this man and how he works. All we have on file right now are cold, hard facts and little else. Having Steve's input on this is critical." Loki seemed unsure of her words but finally nodded in acquiesce.

"How do you suggest we get a word in with this man?" he asked.

"I should think that he wouldn't appreciate it if someone seemed more popular than him. You can just be you," she teased, playfully bumping him in the side.

"And you are confident that upsetting this man is our best approach?"

"I'm saying that it probably is the only approach we really have," she replied coolly. They made their way over to the group of people surrounding Schmidt, and that was when Natasha could finally get a good look at the man. Indeed, he looked identical to the diabolical man of the forties. "I had really been hoping that you were wrong," she whispered nervously.

She had read the file plenty about the backgrounds of all of her teammates, but she hadn't exactly been suspecting that she would end up fighting a man who was meant to be deceased. From the terror that the animal in front of her caused in his hay day, she was positive that he was back here for nothing less than either world domination or world destruction.

He was indeed a rather tall man, perhaps not as tall as Loki, but where his intimidation lacked in stature, it recovered in heaps with his countenance. He only looked to be in his forties, but the slight pool of darkness in his brown eyes destroyed any thought that the man was young. His eyes looked old. Just as old as she was. His arms and legs were loose and sinewy, signaling the strength that he no doubt possessed. His smile was grim and calculating, all of the old women around him so unsuspecting of his evil nature.

"He won't hurt you here," Loki whispered gently into her ear again, and at that moment, she felt a little more relaxed. Only a little.

"Yeah, and you took out someone's eyeball in plain sight of everyone the last you were here," she said crudely, trying desperately to hide the worry in her voice as they came closer to the man. Unlike all of her other marks, she knew the damage that this man had done. Steve had only barely lost to this creature, and he had killed millions of people by the time death was finally achieved. And that was before he even had a thought for revenge in his mind. She was terrified to think of the things that he planned for the world. If he had hated it so much then - enough to have bombs made to take out every big city in the world - what would his plan be this time around?

Loki looked down at her, surprise probably evident in his eyes, though she took no notice of his stare. She was scared. Her voice barely disguised the anxiousness, and the sudden tremble through her small frame was not exactly an indication of confidence. Why would she, the Black Widow, the master of death and Midgardian goddess of torture be afraid of the man they were coming up to? "Would you rather wait by the punch bowl?" he asked sarcastically, hoping to bring back that fiery and confident attitude back to her.

He was met with a fierce glare that honestly soothed him. "Let's go get him," she stated, determination settling back into her green orbs and confidence falling into her stride.

"Yes, see, this my precious daughter," they heard Schmidt say as they entered the conversation. He was holding out a small picture of a tiny bundle of feminine joy, proudly showing off to the group of elderly women surrounding him. "Nicole - isn't she beautiful?"

"Oh, indeed," a grandmotherly character crooned. "What beautiful golden curls!" she exclaimed. "Her mother must be blonde, yes?"

"Yes," Schmidt said. "I do so miss them - any moment away from my new family is quite grievous and painful." Natasha eyed him carefully, not even looking at the girl in the picture. She found it interesting how he had decided to hide behind a pretty family portrait to earn the peoples' trusts. She wondered briefly if this man's family even knew how terribly they were being exploited.

"May I see?" she heard Loki ask kindly, reaching out for the picture and staring at it with a grand smile that momentarily distracted her from her gaze at the German. "Ah, yes. Darling, look at this baby!" He shoved the picture into her hand, and she quickly glanced down at the picture, smiling a little at it.

Then she noticed something. This child looked absolutely nothing like the supposed father - the nose was wrong, the eyes were wrong, the chin was wrong, the mouth was wrong, even the ears were wrong. Try as she might, this baby had absolutely no resemblance to her father whatsoever. She glanced over at Loki, seeing him eyeing her carefully, as if waiting for her to see the same thing he did. The family wasn't real - just another ploy.

"Very pretty," she chimed, passing the picture back to Schmidt. "How old is she?"

"Two next month," he declared.

"Rather small for a two year old, isn't she?" Natasha pointed out. "I hope there's nothing wrong with her health?"

Schmidt looked appalled for a moment, staring in shock at Natasha. "Do you have children of your own, Ms…?"

"Rushman," she finished. "Mrs. Rushman. And no, we don't have any children as of yet."

"Not for a lack of trying, I assure you," Loki added with a bright smile.

"Well, that is to be expected, I suppose. People who are not parents should rarely ever give advice on parenting," Schmidt said rudely, not appreciating the comment Loki made.

"Oh, we meant no disrespect," Natasha rushed. "I baby-sit on occasion for a friend of mine, and her son looks to be that old, and he is just one, little tike," she lied, hoping she hadn't overly offended him.

Schmidt once more looked taken aback. "Well, I'm sure that if someone entrusts you with their child, you must be very good with the younger generations," he said slowly. "If I may ask, what are you doing here?" The fraud couple froze, already uneasy smiles now plastered even more awkwardly on their faces at the thought that they had been discovered. "This is a German party, after all, and there are not many foreigners who are invited."

They both simultaneously relaxed, letting out nervous chuckles. "Well, I'm a well-off banker from the States, and they thought to invite my wife and I. It was our anniversary besides, so we could not pass up the glorious opportunity," Loki informed him.

"With what bank?" Schmidt asked, unconvinced.

Loki smiled. "US."

"Hmm," he drawled, hands folded tightly behind his back as he continued to investigate the two of them. "And you? What is that a woman can do for her country?" he rounded on Natasha. Loki's hand squeezed around her waist, almost in comfort.

"I'm a notary," she peeped, fighting off the intimidation.

"I would hope that that is more important in your country than it is in mine, otherwise you would be a rather sour position, would you not?"

"She very much enjoys her work and does not do it for the paycheck," Loki said tightly, now glaring heavily at the enemy. "I beseech you to not be so rude to my wife again, sir."

"Tom," Natasha whispered, placing a hand as tenderly as she could on his chest and looking up into the ice blue eyes. "It was lovely meeting you," she said kindly. "What was your name?"

"Klaus Kaiser," he replied.

"Well, I think that we should visit again before Tom and I go home to the States. Maybe go to the theater, yes?" Natasha suggested.

"It would certainly be a treat," Schmidt agreed, staring harshly at Loki who had yet to relieve his glare from the man.

"Come along, dear," Natasha cooed, tugging on Loki's arm until they were out the front door and in the car once again.

The ride back to the hotel was absolute torture for the both of them. Each kept their eyes steadily fixed on the world passing outside of their own windows, hands folded tightly in their laps.

Natasha threw aside the key to the room as the door closed behind them. Weariness fell over her at that point, and all she wanted to do was take a bath.

"Why did you let that man speak to you that way?" Loki asked from behind her.

"He expects women to roll over and bend to his will. We needed to be on his good side. So I did what he wanted me to," she answered, walking to the couch and stretching her limbs out before collapsing on it with a thud.

"He completely disrespected you!" he yelled.

"And why do you care, Loki?" she said tiredly. "Don't tell me that your sense of chivalry was what prompted that performance in there. You damn well nearly jeopardized the mission."

"Damn the mission!" Loki continued. "If that mortal had any idea what you were capable of -"

"But he didn't."

"He needs to see you as a threat!"

"He needs to see me as a friend!" she retorted. "This isn't going to work if he knows from the start that we are his opponents. If I wanted to trumpet the team I'm playing for, I would have brought Steve with me to greet the fucking bastard instead of your immortal ass!"

"You made your hatred of me very clear when we first met, and I knew who you were playing for. And yet you still won. How is that any different?" Loki remarked, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Yeah, I did. Because you made your team just as obvious. Schmidt is trying to lay low right now and not rouse suspicion," she told him. She paused, looking at him closer. "Again, I ask. Why do you care?"

Loki stumbled on his words for a moment, looking lost as he avoided her gaze. "I suppose I am of the belief that the one woman who has ever outsmarted me should have the respect that she deserves. He insults me just as much as he insults you. I was defending myself." Natasha looked curiously at him, not at all understand a word that he was saying, and she was honestly too tired to try. "I'm getting this ridiculous suit off and I am going to bed." With that, he marched furiously into the bathroom with a change of pajamas, slamming the door behind him.

Natasha sighed, supposing that sleep wouldn't be at all terrible. She needed to call Fury about this update, but at the moment, she really was too tired to care. One night wouldn't hurt.

Loki came out of the bathroom a moment later, surprised to see Natasha right where he had left her, draped on the couch, a small snore gurgling from her open mouth. Sleep still had been troubling her, he had noticed. She hadn't been aware of it at all, but the cries that she emitted in her sleep were of anything but pleasure, and they had awoken him on more than one occasion.

He stared longingly at the empty bed, wishing to rest in those smooth sheets and give his aching muscles a reprieve. But he couldn't.

Nervously, he approached Natasha's side, trying to remember the type of nightwear that she would ordinarily wear. He figured that she would not be very pleased with him if he tried to remove her dress and put on the pajamas himself, so he used his magic and draped her in her regular nightgown, smiling at the fact that it remained a shiny green.

Even more nervously, he leaned over and picked her up, afraid that she would wake, and wake she did. Her fist pounded into his face, making him grunt in surprise, and then next thing he knew, he was on his back, the air knocked clear of his lungs.

"What the hell?" she exclaimed, staring down at her nightgown. "Did you…?"

"I used magic, rest assured," he whimpered. "You are quite a light sleeper," he mentioned.

"Yeah, I would've told you had I thought that you would have been trying to rape me in my sleep," she barked, kicking him in the side. "Pervert."

"I was only going to put you in bed, Natasha," he stated.

"Again with the chivalry, then?" she retorted. "Get up, you big baby," she ordered lamely, sitting on the bed. "I was going to let you have the bed, you know. You look like you could use it."

"That would have been nice to know earlier before I got punched in the face."

"Again, I didn't know that you were going to try to rape me in my sleep!"

"I told you, I wasn't going to -" He froze, looking at her and seeing the merciless twinkle in her eyes as she stared at him. "You're mocking me." Natasha then proceeded to laugh heartily, the smile on her face making him temporarily forget the anger she had caused him earlier.

"Take the bed, Loki. I can fit on the couch a lot better than you can," she said after her laughter had died away. She went to her pillow and dug out her gun, giving him a knowing smile. She discarded the weapon under the couch pillow, sinking down into the cushions and pulling up a light blanket to cover herself. She faced the door, as always and sent him one last smile before closing her eyes and falling back to sleep and the quiet snore resuming.

Loki watched for a moment longer, mesmerized by her small form looking even smaller as she slept. It was like how it had been on the plane. He simply could not look away from the woman there.

After what seemed to be a millennium, he turned his gaze away from Natasha and climbed into the bed, instantly shrouded in the smell of vanilla. Damn her.

* * *

**I really, really, really apologize that this took so long to write! It seems to be getting harder and harder for me to get into the heads of our favorite characters here. I don't know. They are both so wondrously complex and it makes my head hurt when I think about their possible reactions. Kinda worried I went a little out of character here. Let me know, please!**

**Anything that seemed cliché? I tried to make it a little different than what we would typically see in romantic comedies.**

**And yes, Schmidt is back in the picture! Fun, fun, fun, right?**

**Oh, little notes: Freya, one of the goddesses I mentioned in this one, is the goddess of love/lust/fertility according to Norse mythology. Or so my some dozen resources tell me. And Kaiser, the fictitious last name that Schmidt made up is supposed to mean emperor, so… yeah.**

**Thanks a million for the reviews that I have been getting! They truly make my day! Maybe we can get to forty this time, right? Maybe forty-five? I think we can!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	9. Homebound

_**Chapter 9 - Homebound**_

**Hey, everybody! Missed you guys! AND THANK YOU FOR THE AWESOME REVIEWS! Seriously, 14? That's amazing! I cannot tell you how loved I feel, and all of them are so nice and sweet, I end up looking like a blushing maniac to all of my friends. But you guys make me so happy! Thanks!**

**Anyways… here is the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: My ownership status of Marvel has yet to change, so don't sue me. You won't get anything.**

* * *

He was standing above her, as always, a malicious grin plastered on his becoming face, and all she could feel was terror. The golden twist of his horns glittered in the sunlight, green cape gliding through the air behind him like demon's wings. His pale hand reached out to her collapsed form, and she closed her green eyes, awaiting the chokehold that was bound to come.

Contrary to his customary action, he grasped her upper arm and hoisted her to her feet to stand beside him. His blue eyes looked to her in what she could only identify as concern before gazing out to the world in front of him.

It was then that she saw the flames. Everywhere, everything burning. The whole town - the whole world - was set aflame, and in the distance, through the haziness of the smoke pluming into the darkened air, there was a man. His look was even more stupefying than Loki's, brown eyes glaring with delight at the devastation he had caused. The glow of his red skull shone, and it was clear that as their enemy stared at them that he had won.

Natasha whimpered at Loki's side, and he looked down at her with his ice blue eyes. "We are going to die," she stated, watching as Red Skull weaved through the flames and began to approach them.

Loki said nothing, something that surprised her greatly. Her shock was only magnified when he boldly took her into his arms and pressed his cool, smooth lips against hers. For a moment, she remained still, unsure of what her next action needed to be. But after that moment, she succumbed to him and returned the kiss, never seeming to be able to be close enough to him. She threw aside the helmet, tangling her hands into his dark hair, perhaps scratching painfully at his scalp, though he didn't seem to care. His own nails were digging painfully into her waist, maybe drawing blood but she didn't notice. All that mattered was this man kissing her, and the undying love she felt for him.

"How sweet," a man interrupted, German accent thick and calculated. They broke apart, Loki coming to stand in front of her, taking a defensive stance. "Lovers' goodbye?" he mocked.

"Do not tell me that you do not feel envy," Loki's smooth voice dictated.

"Perhaps," Red Skull agreed with a shrug. "However my only emotion at the moment is curiosity. Which would hurt more? The Black Widow watching the only man who has ever understood her die? Or Prince Loki of Asgard watching the woman who has made him whole again die?" She and Loki fell quiet at the words, and pain unimaginable clenched in her gut. She gasped and looked down at her Black Widow suit, seeing the thick blade of a knife protruding from her front, blood dripping from the silver tip. Whoever was behind her to stab her twisted the weapon, carving out more of her body. Blood crept its way into her mouth, its metallic taste familiar from past battle wounds. But this taste was slightly different: she could taste defeat. Death. Loss…

"No!" she heard Loki exclaim, catching her right before she fell. She heard the snap of someone's neck, and then smelt Loki's calm and soothing scent. Old parchment. The smell made her smile briefly, and she met his eyes with the bravest gaze she could muster. "Natasha, it's going to be alright," he cooed, sweeping her red hair from her face.

"Yes, I do believe I made the right choice," Red Skull announced in a smug voice. "Can't you see, Widow, just how much this god cares for you? With a silver tongue that can say just about anything, and he lies for your dying comfort? It's pathetic!"

Loki continued to look at her, and she felt tears spill into her vision as the pain continued to increase. "It's okay," she murmured, reaching up with a weary hand to hold his face, feeling his own tears. "We knew… that the chances… weren't ever in… our favor."

"You can make it through this," Loki bantered, shaking his head in denial before resting his forehead on hers.

"You see," Red Skull continued. "With you dead, Loki's purpose ends. You were his reason to live, and now… nothing."

"Come on, you big baby," Natasha chuckled. "Don't you dare give up just because of me."

He chuckled lightly in response. "I have always been a child, haven't I?" he asked.

Her eyes widened, understanding the ambiguous words all too clearly. _Love is for children._ He loved her. Something that she had once so tirelessly feared, and now something that she so wholeheartedly welcomed. "As have I," she gasped. The world became foggy in her sight, and the touch of his hands exceedingly hot, enough to make her sweat with discomfort. The pain that had long been her friend in life, had overcome all of her senses, and she let out one last whimper before everything went dark, and the touch of him was gone.

* * *

Natasha sat upright on the couch, sweat pouring down her face, and her throat dry from gasping. She looked down at her stomach, seeing no offending object there, no blood. Her mouth tasted dry, something that she welcomed in comparison to blood.

She felt cold. Her whole body shook with frightening tremors as she relived the horrors of her nightmare. Her heart felt like it was going a million miles a minute, and the racing throb of her pulse on the inside of her wrist only proved her thought further.

Natasha took steadying breaths, closing her eyes. However, when all she could see was her own death, they opened rapidly, and she felt even more shaky.

After a moment, she gasped again, reaching up to touch her lips. She could almost taste the peppermint freshness of his breath again, and for some reason this slightly calmed her. She turned her gaze over to the God of Mischief, eyeing him nervously. Had he given her the dream? No, that was ridiculous.

He didn't love her, she said to herself, repeating the mantra.

Unable to look at him, she ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind her and dropping to the floor, her sweaty back pressing firmly against the fake wood of the cold door.

Why would she dream something like that? It was completely different from every other dream she had ever had with the god. Vaguely, she remembered feeling scared at the start of her dream, and she knew that this was because she had expected the dream to follow the same lines as her other dreams. He would kill her with that smug grin, and there would be nothing that she could do to stop him. But this one… it was more terrifying than any of the other dreams that she had ever experienced in her life. Maybe it was because Red Skull had achieved his goal and had destroyed the world. _Regimes fall every day. I tend not to weep over that. I'm Russian. _No, that couldn't be the reason. It had to be because of Loki. Whether it was his concern over her dying body, or if it was because he had claimed to love her, or because she had returned the sentiment without hesitation, she didn't know. All she knew was that Loki had been the cause of her inner turmoil now. As to be expected. Because he was the only man who could ever get to her that way.

After another half hour, she supposed, she abandoned the safety of the bathroom, looking warily around the corner and spying her nightmare, perched stoically there. He was staring interestedly at her, as awake as could be, arms folded presumptuously across his chest.

"Another nightmare?" he supposed, arching an eyebrow at her in suspicion.

Natasha shrugged and walked back to her couch, adopting a neutral face and avoiding those wondrously blue eyes. She should not allow him to get to her this way. It was wrong. She was the Black Widow, a woman who cared not of the opinions men had of her, and certainly not a woman who fell to the charms and attentions of said men.

"Natasha?" he probed, his voice sounding gentle and soft, and for a moment, her defenses weakened, and that was all that he needed. "This isn't like your other nightmares," he mentioned. "You've been in there for half an hour."

"It's not your business what my dreams are, Loki," she chided, her small hands clenching into fists.

"It is my business though when my partner's health falls into question," he retorted, standing from the bed and approaching her.

"Don't," she snarled as he tried to sit next to her. All she needed right now was to be left alone, and definitely not have him in any kind of proximity to her.

He paused for a moment in his advance before disregarding her threat and sitting beside her, bare arms touching enough to make her have to stifle a shiver. "What's wrong? What happened?" he asked.

"Schmidt won," she surrendered, deciding unwaveringly not to divulge the romance of the dream to him. He couldn't be trusted with that information. No one could. "He took over the world, and the Avengers lost," she carried on.

"You don't expect me to believe that that is the entire tale, do you? Otherwise, I may have underestimated your intelligence," he regarded. "I recall you very simply saying to me once that you cared not for fallen regimes. Twice, actually, and you expect me to think that the death of this meager planet would have caused this sort of pain for you?"

"I died," she substituted, feeling him freeze against her. She met his gaze then, surprised to see anger in his eyes. She allowed a tear to enter her vision, finding that it was perhaps far more real than it was fake. "Alone," she lied firmly. "There was no one there for me."

Loki stared carefully at her, his eyes still betraying the anger that he was feeling. "I never once suspected that you feared solitude that way," he admitted in a controlled voice.

"Well, apparently, I do," she retorted.

He nodded and folded his hands on his lap, looking down at the carpet as he absorbed her dream. What would happen should she perish? The thought sent a wave of fright through him. He couldn't imagine the Black Widow not being there to unravel all of his intents. And he especially couldn't imagine Natasha not being there to understand him. He didn't know what he would do. She was the only thing that had him leashed to this mission, and without her… he assumed that he would surrender, there being no reason to continue assisting the Avengers anymore.

"You won't die," he claimed. "You can't, can you? You have that serum in your veins, just like the soldier does, and you're immortal."

"Only to aging," she argued. "Death is still just as likely for me as it is for every other mortal. I'm not immune to gunshots or… stabbings… like you and Thor and the Hulk are."

Loki felt a slight stinging in his eyes as he learned the information. "Barton then seems to not know this of your past. Otherwise, I would know it as well."

Natasha hesitated for a moment and squirmed beside him. "Only Fury knows the extent of my physical status."

"And now, so do I," Loki added. She nodded. Tentatively, he reached for her hand, carefully entwining their fingers and smiling slightly as she didn't pull away from him. "I won't let you die alone, Natasha. I have to be there to be the one to kill you, don't I? I'm your murderer - how can you die without me present for that?"

Natasha laughed loosely, reaching up with her spare hand to brush away the tears from her eyes. "Still intent on killing me, Immortal God?" she teased, her green eyes once again gaining that spark that he adored so much.

"Just as intent as you are on killing me, Mortal Woman," he responded properly, bumping her side playfully, and getting a fierce shove in return, making him laugh merrily. They stared down at their clasped hands, both feeling slightly awkward with the contact, but neither pulling away, both marveling instead at the connection. Unconsciously, he witnessed his thumb tenderly trace innocent circles on the back of her palm, and felt a squeeze in return from her.

He looked up into her eyes then, seeing a light there that was unfamiliar to him. The corners of her seductive lips turned slightly upward in the smallest of smiles. He found himself returning the grin and felt himself lean closer to her, seeing her return the movement until their noses were almost touching. Gods, how gorgeous her lips looked at that moment, how wonderful they might taste against his own.

Her tongue darted out for the briefest of moments, effectively making him completely attentive to only her and nothing else.

The sudden ring of her telephone made him want to curse, and they pulled away as she reached for the device, holding it to her ear. "This is Agent Romanoff," she announced, her voice slightly husky in a way that made him tremble.

"We didn't hear from you," he heard Fury's thick voice drawl. "What happened?"

"We are coming back," she said clearly, standing from the couch and walking to the window of their room and throwing open the curtains, sunlight streaming in. "It's Schmidt, after all, and Loki and I need to talk to Cap."

"Shit," Fury breathed, and he could just picture the old man resting a hand on his hip in worry. "Did you get any know how on where the Tesseract is?" he rounded.

"No, we decided that tailing this guy wasn't our best move at present. We need to gather more information about him before we go and attack him. Hence Rogers."

"Did you at least speak with him?"

"We did, sir," Natasha answered. "Going under the name Klaus Kaiser at the moment. Might be able to track his current actions that way."

"Alright. Get back as soon as you can, Agent," Fury demanded and there was a dull buzz that terminated the call.

Natasha turned back to Loki, looking nervous. "We should get ready to go back," she mentioned after a moment. He could only imagine what her opinion of him must be now that he had attempted to kiss her. It was just as much her fault as it was his though, to be quite honest.

"What about the theater ploy?" Loki asked lightly, getting up and grabbing an assortment of clothes from his suitcase. "Weren't we supposed to speak with him once more before going back?"

"That's what we led him to believe, yes. We will be coming back to make good on that offer," she replied with ease. "But only after we have a better game plan as to what we're doing. This guy is a whole different type of crazy, and we cannot go in blind expecting to win."

"And you are confident that the soldier will have details about Schmidt that we already do not? He's a soldier, Natasha. Not a strategist and observer."

"Her strategized enough in the war against him," Natasha countered.

Loki fell silent at the claim and finally nodded in acceptance, holding up his clothes for her to see. "I'm taking a shower."

"Um, would you mind if I went first?" she interrupted, marching past him and blocking his way to the door. "I'm a little… sweaty."

Loki stared at her for a moment, eyeing her gross looking nightwear. "Alright," he said. "Please do not take forever!" he pleaded, seeing a smug smirk on her face just before she closed the door.

He rolled his eyes at her childish behavior before walking back to the bed, flipping on the television. It was an interesting device, however the lack of mature programs startled him. With an abundance of channels, there never seemed to be anything on that would pique his interest.

* * *

The airport seemed to be busier today than the other day they had arrived in Munich, and it quickly elevated to a rather stressful situation for the prince. People hustling and bustling to and from little gift shops and constantly "accidentally" hitting him with their excessive luggage was enough to make him wish to kill someone.

"Have you mortals no decency?" he exclaimed, sitting down in a seat by their gate next to Natasha who was reading a magazine.

"This is everyday life, darling," she replied without looking up from her literature. "Looks like Stark is getting back to business as usual, see?" she shoved the magazine at him, a picture of the smiling Tony Stark gracing the front page, along with a rather destroyed Stark Tower in repairs.

"Camera whore," he mentioned, giving it back to her.

"Hey, he stood up for you back there for a little while. You owe him," she retorted, taking it back and fishing for the article.

He stared out at the swarming mass of people, an old lady dripping some of her coffee on his shoe as she passed by. "I hate people," he grumbled, fishing out a napkin and trying to wipe away the offending droplets with a scowl.

Natasha giggled playfully and reached for his hand, sending him a look to calm down. She squeezed his hand tenderly, and he paused, taking control of his emotions. She smiled happily and leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek in praise.

The feel of her lips on his skin caused him to shudder, and he looked at her darkly. Other people at the gate stared on with admiration, but he was honestly too focused on the woman playing his wife to care much about their stares. "That was surprising," he said quietly into her ear, smelling the vanilla of her shampoo cling to the red curls.

"Woman's touch," she said simply. "Makes the public feel more comfortable. And look, now they aren't looking at you like you're going to murder them."

"I suppose," Loki agreed. He definitely wasn't going to object to this woman putting her lips on him. He may hate her, but her touch was not something to be discounted. "What does Mr. Stark have to say about the damage done to his precious building?" he teased, seeing her chuckle in response. She opened the magazine more fully and pointed to the article, him resting his chin on her shoulder as her read the statement. Perhaps playing a couple really did have its perks.

* * *

They touched down in New York nine hours later picked up by a quinjet to take them up to the Helicarrier. They walked into the vessel, looking like the image of calmness. They even looked a little refreshed being that Natasha was able to get an adequate nap during this trip.

"Brother!" Thor greeted with a grand smile, embracing the younger god in a tight embrace that Loki made no effort to return. "Director Fury claims that you have discovered the thief of the Tesseract."

"We have, Thor," Natasha replied. "Let's get to the conference room. I assume that the rest of the team is already there and waiting?"

"Indeed, they are, Lady Romanoff," Thor answered dutifully.

Loki grinned at his partner as they made their way to the room. It was strange to see her once again surrounded by her teammates. He had grown accustomed to seeing a, maybe not playful, but surely less… definitive, side of Natasha. Yet here, there was not a doubt in his mind that she was the embodiment of importance and duty.

"Natasha," Barton said first when they entered. Her former partner ran up and embraced her, and unlike Loki, she returned it without thought, making Loki frown. "Are you alright?" he asked immediately, holding her at arms length and surveying her body in a way that Loki did not appreciate. "He didn't hurt you, did he?" he rounded.

"Barton, I am perfectly fine. Everything went according to plan," she answered.

"Yeah, except the part of getting the Cube back," Tony remarked. "Good to see you in one piece, Red. Legolas's moping was beginning to bring me down. And Reindeer Games! Have you learned the meaning of love and happiness?" Loki stared idly at the Iron Man, making the smaller man feel awkward. "How about ponies and rainbows?" he tried again. "Okay, never mind."

"We saw your photograph in a magazine in Munich, Stark," Loki spoke. "Natasha and I found great humor in it."

Tony smiled widely and took a seat again.

"We're getting away from the point here," Steve started, finally speaking. "Fury said that this was Schmidt's doing."

"Yes," Natasha sighed, taking a seat next to Steve, Barton hurriedly taking the one beside hers while Loki was doomed to sit next to Thor and Tony. "Where's Banner?"

"He has been extensively searching for the Cube," Thor answered. "He is a stout friend, and we are glad to have his intelligence in the matter."

"He should be along in a moment," Tony added.

Natasha nodded and cast a glance at Loki. "Should we start?" her eyes seemed to ask him, and he shrugged in response. He suspected the team would not be very eager to hear his side of the story very much, so he would keep quiet.

Without getting a concrete answer, she sighed in annoyance, seeing Loki smile at her, and began. She spoke endlessly of the gala and their meeting with Schmidt, focusing on little else, which didn't surprise him at all. He had thought that she wouldn't want to divulge anything about their evening on the mountain, or how they battled for the shower, or how he changed the color of her dress. And he was grateful for that. It wasn't for the others to be aware of.

"That was one night out of three that you spent there," Thor mentioned. "What of the other two?"

Natasha hesitated, so Loki deftly answered, "The first night we were too exhausted from the trip to do anything but sleep. The second we researched."

"So you didn't do anything fun when you were there?" Tony asked. "You were in Munich!"

"The mission was what was important," Natasha responded with a shrug. "You sound surprised."

Banner entered the room then, brown hair disheveled and purple shirt crumpled and eyes looking a little too bloodshot for any of their likings. "I can't find the damn thing!" he yelled, and everyone immediately stood and backed away from him. Barton, much to Loki's anger, moved to stand in front of Natasha and block her from Banner. "He's not coming out," Banner breathed, collapsing in a chair, running a hand through his hair, messing it further. "It's fine."

"We never doubted you," Thor claimed, sitting back down and patting Banner on the back thoughtfully and with a cheesy smile. "We know who the true thief is, Doctor, so hopefully, this will aid our search even more. There is no cause for worry."

"I vehemently disagree with this statement, but whatever keeps your alter ego in check, I will go along with it," Loki said, earning a glare from everyone in the room.

"Not helping," Natasha said. Loki shrugged in indifference. "Steve, we need to know absolutely everything there is to know about Schmidt. Beyond the files."

Steve sighed and sat up straighter in his chair, looking at her solely. The interview seemed to go on for hours, and Loki could tell that even Tony and Thor were getting bored with the discussion. He understood fully how important this mission was and how critical it was to get back the Tesseract. But this was going on for far too long.

Fury had entered the room a while later, not interrupting the discussion, rather just standing in his corner with Agent Hill and monitoring the goings on.

"So, you're going back," Hill asked after Steve finished with his rambling.

"We are," Natasha affirmed.

"Do you want a different partner, now that we know what we're up against?" Barton asked her, making Loki's ice cold blood boil.

"I think that given what we now know, it's critical that Loki comes with me. Plus, it could jeopardize the mission. Schmidt is under the impression that Loki and I are married, and you coming along may disturb that image."

"Yeah, but don't you think that you need your partner?" Clint rounded.

"Yeah, but don't you think that it would be better for Natasha to be alive?" Loki retorted with a glare. "Do not speak of me as if I am not present."

"You don't get it, do you?" Barton demanded. "She needs someone who gets her and can work with her. We've done countless missions in the past, all of the successful -"

"And all of those missions you were not toying with an Asgardian relic," Loki said. "Schmidt could just as easily possess your mind as I had and have you kill her in your sleep."

"And you are immune to that power?"

"That's a stupid question, even for you," Loki mocked.

"Stop it," Natasha interrupted, standing from her seat and giving them both glares. "Loki is coming with me and is remaining my partner, Clint."

"Should we go too?" Steve asked. "Just to be there?"

"Our objective is to not rouse suspicion, Rogers," Loki mentioned. "I think it best that it remain just the two of us on this mission. Perhaps later once we locate the Tesseract and need to retrieve it, you shall be called in. It will take a while for Natasha and I to win this man's trust."

"Does he have any reason to not trust you now?" Tony asked.

"You have to ask?" Clint said sarcastically.

"This man is expecting a threat," Loki reasoned. "Any wise man doesn't trust at first sight." He met Natasha's gaze, and he knew exactly what she was thinking of. How he had been the one to possibly provoke their target in the first place and rouse distrust. Well, that may be true, but he wasn't going to allow the woman who was supposed to be his wife be disrespected that way.

"When are you planning to go back?" Fury asked, hands on his hips as he stared at the two of them, Natasha mostly.

"As soon as possible. I think it would be best if we stay the night and leave in the morning. Nine hours on a plane is not exactly what I would call a good time, and I don't want to make a repeat of it now," she answered.

"Enjoy some real company," Barton agreed, wrapping an arm around her and tugging her out of the room, both of them smiling.

Loki stared with disdain after the two of them. "I do recall them being upset with one another before our departure."

"The two of them can never stay angry at each other for long," Fury pointed out. "They've been partners for far too long."

* * *

Natasha smiled as her best friend plopped her down in the cafeteria, her tray of food landing unceremoniously in front of her. A simple salad and an iced tea compared to his large piece of red meat with a side of mashed potatoes and a beer.

"How has it been with that asshole?" he started with a cheeky smile, slicing away at the steak.

Ignoring the vulgarity, she replied, "It hasn't been that bad. He's helpful in a pinch. Probably would have spent hours trying to pin down a guy at that gala who wasn't the thief. He was the one to spot Schmidt, actually."

"Yeah, I bet it was all staged, you know," Barton continued, the cheeky smile becoming a tad too malicious for her liking, though she tried to ignore it.

"What has been going on around here?" she asked, trying to change the subject. Though she didn't like Loki, he really wasn't the worst of people, and she didn't like the way Barton was continuously going after him. They had argued about this before, and she hadn't been to keen on repeating it.

"Banner's a loose cannon, Nat," Clint gurgled through the food in his mouth. "I swear, he's been up day and night trying to find that damn Cube just so that you can come home and get out of that monster's grasp. Can't be healthy."

"I would imagine," she agreed. "He looked terrible today when we saw him."

"Oh, I was talking about you being with Loki for that long. But yeah, Banner's condition certainly isn't all that healthy either."

"What about the others?" she asked, feeling her patience beginning to trickle away, and she found herself rushing to finish her meal so she could retire. She didn't want to be around Clint right now.

"Well, I think that Steve's got a little something for Hill. I think they've been training together or something. Since she's smaller and stuff, she's a little bit more nimble, so it's a good match. I think that he's been feeling a little useless, and she's been taking the edge off," he admitted.

Natasha smiled at the news. It was a strange idea, granted, but definitely not a foreign one. "Well, as long as he's happy and it doesn't jeopardize the mission," she supplied, taking another bite.

"He doesn't know a thing about women," Clint chuckled, now taking a swig of beer. "He's come to talk to me about a hundred times."

"And what have you been telling him?" she asked, looking at him anxiously.

"Well, I talked to him a little about when you and I were sort of a thing, you know."

"We were never a thing," she disagreed. "You've been a loyal and faithful partner during missions and you're my best friend, but we have never been a thing."

"Whatever you want to call it, Nat, I don't care. You know that there has been something going on with us for a long time. And it's just as you put it. We could be happy as long as we don't jeopardize the mission. I think we could do it," he carried on.

Natasha froze, setting down her fork and looking up at the ceiling for some sort of comfort that she definitely wasn't receiving. "Clint… I think we've talked about this before, and my answer hasn't changed since then. You are my best friend. Nothing more."

"See, you always do this!" he exclaimed. "You pull away just because you are afraid to be happy!"

"I'm not afraid to be happy!" she denied.

"Then tell me the last time you were genuinely happy," he bribed. "Like laughing. I haven't heard you _truly_ laugh in the longest time."

Natasha bit her lip as she pondered her answer. What her mind was supplying sounded wrong and grotesque, and she didn't even want to admit it to herself - that she could be happy when Loki was around. She had laughed on a number of occasions with the God of Mischief, and they had been genuine. Even that morning after her nightmare, he had made her laugh. And on the mountain, and the night of the gala when he tried to move her to the bed. Every day she had spent with him so far, she had laughed. "I don't want to talk about this anymore," she murmured.

"You're slowly killing yourself, Nat, and I can't stand to see it happening. I mean, you submit yourself to a suicide mission with Loki of all people and -"

"Stop saying things like that, Clint. I left here angry with you about this very reason, and I don't want to leave tomorrow angry about the same thing. Please," she begged.

"Why? You claim to hate him, and yet you don't want to agree with me about how horrible he is?"

"Stop it!" she demanded. "I'm just as terrible as he is, and you know it! All of the things that I've done! I've killed just as many as he has, just not as one time. I drew out the pain I caused. So stop making me sound like some angel and him like a demon when we're the same."

"You are not the same. See, you have a conscience," he claimed.

"And you would realize that he does too if you weren't so blinded by your hate!" she yelled. Silence encompassed her and she looked around the cafeteria, seeing every agent staring imploringly at her. "We're done here," she said in a softer voice. "I'm going to my room. Don't follow me," she demanded.

Once she arrived at her room, she slammed the door and locked it, walking to her bed and lying down on the cold mattress.

Why did it always seem to be like this? If she was angry with Loki, she was happy with Clint, and if she was angry with Clint, she was happy with Loki. Would there never be a happy medium?

There was a quiet knock at her door, and she growled low in her throat, "Go away."

"I would, but I was sent to give you the file for tomorrow," she heard Loki announce through the door. "After that, I'm gone." She sighed and trumped to the door, swinging it wide and seeing the god without said file. "Thank you," he said, walking into her room and taking a seat on her bed.

"Where's the file?" she asked, closing the door.

"God of Lies," he mocked, and she couldn't help but smile at the innocent look on his face. At her downtrodden mood, his smile morphed into a frown. "You're troubled again."

"I'm fine," she lied, sweeping a piece of hair out of her face.

"Lie," he disagreed. "I swear, Natasha, your moods really are quite drastic. Just on the plane, you seemed very calm, and now you're angry."

"Get out of my head!" she yelled, effectively silencing him. "In fact, get out of my room! I don't want to talk to you - I don't want to talk to anyone - right now!"

Loki's frown deepened. "Was it Barton?"

"It's none of your damn business who it was!" she barked. His stare remained on her face and she felt all of her walls come down at once. "Yes, it was," she surrendered.

"What about?" he asked.

"Everything, Loki," she complained, walking over and sitting on the bed next to him. Without thinking, she dropped her head onto his shoulder, feeling him stiffen. "Can I ask you a question?" "I believe you just did," he jested, making her smile softly.

"Be honest?" she entreated and felt him nod. "Do you think that I'm afraid to be happy?"

"I think you don't know when it's appropriate for you to be happy," he answered easily. "You were never allowed to be happy as a child, so now, you still question yourself. I suspect that you want to be happy though. Happiness is the root of all desire, and even the unfeeling Black Widow can't escape that."

"I think that you know me too well," she mentioned.

"That's probably true. But the same goes for you as well," he teased. "I've always said that you know me better than even Thor."

Natasha chuckled. "I'm starting to think that you were right about you knowing me better than Barton," she added.

"Was he the one to suggest you're afraid of happiness?" he guessed.

"Maybe," she replied. "You should go. Get some sleep." She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked down at the floor.

He nodded and pulled away from her, walking to the door. "Don't have any nightmares," he teased, arching an eyebrow at her.

She smiled at him and watched as he closed the door behind him. She fell back on the bed again, the smile still plastered on her face. Somehow, her rotten mood was gone, and she felt - dare she say it? - actually happy.

* * *

**There it is! Hope it wasn't too cheesy at the end there. I absolutely loved writing this chapter. Got a lovely review from Sol who wanted a kiss scene somewhere. I know that it wasn't an actual kiss, since she was dreaming but it was a kinda a kiss. Hope you liked it!**

**Oh, and how'd you guys like that dream? Probably my favorite part of the entire chapter, to be quite honest with you.**

**And that "Woman's touch, makes the public comfortable," that's from Chicken Run. So don't sue me Dreamworks! **

**Anyway! Let's go for sixty reviews! We're almost to 100, can you believe it?!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	10. An Immersion in Culture And Other Things

_**Chapter 10 - An Immersion in Culture Among Other Things**_

**Hello, everyone! Let me just start with saying, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TOM HIDDLESTON! The root of all of these chapters here and so many different fanfics. So it is only natural that I would update today, right?**

**Haha, sorry, I had to get that off of my chest. Anyways, thank you all for the wonderful reviews! We hit 60! My goodness that makes me so, so, so, so, happy! And it is all because of your guys! You are truly amazing and every time I get a review sent to my phone, I get this humongous pride burst. So thank you! I love you all!**

**Oh, and as I was writing this one, I was totally thinking "Poison and Wine" by the Civil Wars. Look it up; it is an amazing song. And I think that it very closely relates to our two favorite characters. But that's just me.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or anything related. Excuse me while I go ball my eyes out.**

* * *

Steve's fist pounded into the stiff bag, a deep indention signaling its eventual death. With another second, the bag glided through the air, hitting the wall and causing an explosion of sand.

"You know, we are going to run out of those eventually if you keep destroying them like that," Hill's teasing voice announced. "That makes ten now, doesn't it?"

Steve felt the familiar blush creep up his neck and settle into his boyish face. He looked down at his taped up hands shamefully. "That thought typically comes to mind after I break one," he admitted. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "It's just that now we know who is behind all of this… I was supposed to finish it. It was my job to kill Schmidt. And all I got was 70 years on ice. I failed the job."

"I wouldn't say that. We won the war, remember?" she replied.

"At how many lives though?" he retorted. "Maybe I could have prevented so many deaths."

"No use crying over spilled milk. What's done is done," she told him tersely. "And as I recall, I came here for a workout. Not for tears," she teased. "Are we going to practice or not?"

Steve chuckled, feeling more relaxed as he felt his muscles quake in anticipation. He held his arms out in offering, taking immediate note of her smug smirk. She charged at him, a familiar fire taking over in her sapphire, blue eyes. His arm deftly caught her across her chest making to stop her. However, instead of coming to a painful halt, she took it all in stride, using her momentum to throw up her legs and knee him in the back of the head. As he fell forward, she somehow managed to position herself on his back, her small body surprisingly making a rather loud crack on his spine as they fell to the hardwood floor. He felt the tip of her gun at the side of his neck, making him grin.

"Is that a record?" she mocked playfully. "Five seconds, Rogers?"

The super soldier flipped over rapidly, knocking her off of him and the gun away from her. In her shock, he grasped her wrists tightly and held them behind her back. His lips fell against her ear. "I don't know. Is it?" he teased.

"I had that won, cheater," she snapped, tearing her arms out of his hold and turning around to glare at him darkly.

He held his hands up in surrender with a shy smile. "You're right; that was wrong." He held out a hand for her. "You win?"

She stared at the hand for a moment before reaching out to take it. "You're buying me breakfast, cheater," she scolded. "And not McDonald's like last time!" she demanded with a smirk.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked, grabbing his gym bag and coming to stand next to her before they made their way out of the gym.

He wasn't exactly sure of what was going on between the two of them. Out of everything that had happened, even going back to Loki's week of world domination, Maria had really been the only constant. Her smart-aleck responses for everything, and yet undying support and loyalty were some of the only things that could make him smile anymore. Everyone else on this ship, in this team, all had hidden agendas and secrets. Maria was the only person at this point who seemed to be truly real to him. If there was something that the young, beautiful, agent wanted to say, she would say it without regrets. She knew where her loyalties belonged, and she wasn't afraid to make them known. And he admired that about her.

Steve was beginning to think that there was maybe a little bit more than friendship between them. At least on his side. A part of him regretted these emotions, because he had been so in love with Peggy. But something also told him that Peggy would want him to be happy and to move on. And maybe it was with Agent Hill that he could do this.

* * *

Loki awoke in the morning from Thor's enthusiastic pounding on his bedroom door. His brother's golden smile seemed overly bright in the dim lit room, and the younger prince made quick to glare at the offender. "Why are you awake this early?" he asked crudely, sleep still thick in his voice. Thor rarely ever awoke before he did, and receiving a wake-up call from him was definitely not a good way to start the day.

"Lady Natasha wishes for you to be awake. For you are meant to depart soon, and she worries that you will 'dilly-dally' to coin her words," Thor explained, the smile not showing any signs of leaving.

"Why did she not wake me herself?" he questioned. "She certainly would not be so cruel with her… arousals." Well, maybe she would now that he thought about it…

"Because I thought it would be funny," he heard her declare as she entered the room. A smug look was plastered on her porcelain face, corners of her lips turned upwards and a sparkle in her emerald eyes. "And it was. Thanks, Thor," she chided, patting his brother's arm lightly. Thor grinned widely before leaving the room. "He was right though," she started, walking over to him. "You need to get ready now."

"Will Barton be accompanying us to the airport?" he asked, throwing the blankets off of himself and walking to the makeshift wardrobe in the corner of his room. He grabbed simple clothes before turning around to look at Natasha who avoided his gaze.

"I've decided that another agent should drop us off today," she answered quietly. He arched an eyebrow at her in surprise. He knew that she was upset with Barton, but he never thought that it would have gone to that extreme that she would disregard her best friend entirely. "With everything that's happened, I just don't think it's a good idea for the two of you to be in the same room."

"Are you worried for me, or is it actually you who simply doesn't want to be around him at present?" he remarked.

"Maybe a little bit of both," she admitted.

"Because he told you that you're afraid of happiness?" he guessed. She shrugged in indifference. "I think that there was more to it than that, Natasha," he told her. "You don't get bothered by people's opinions like that. Or at least, you don't show it. What else did he say to you that makes you want to avoid him?" he probed.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I don't want to talk about this with you. Meet me on the bridge. Just get ready as fast as you can." She quitted the room then, closing the door behind her and walking to the conference room. No one was in there at the moment, but she took her usual seat anyway, staring at the table with her arms crossed.

In another ten minutes, she was joined by Thor who was talking animatedly to Loki, an arm around the younger brother's shoulders. Loki looked extremely uncomfortable with the contact, but didn't move away from the hold. Thor moved to sit in his chair, and Loki made a quick dodge to sit next to Natasha, giving her a tight smile. "That's Barton's seat," she whispered.

"And I thought you wanted to avoid him?" he cheeked, making her smile.

"I must say, Lady Natasha, you do bring out an interesting side in my brother," Thor commented, a sneaky smile on his face. "It isn't often that I get to see him this happy." Natasha froze at Thor's words, and she felt Loki stiffen next to her as well. "I mean, I don't recall him ever smiling so often. It seems that whenever the two of you are together, it's like he's a whole new person."

"I think you've said enough, Thor," Loki growled.

Thor's face fell and he looked down at his folded hands on his lap. "And then, whenever I try to be cordial and try to elicit that happy person, I am received with hostility. Someday you must divulge your secrets to me, my lady."

Tony was next to barge into the conference room, and he pointed accusingly at Natasha. "And it just so happens that I think that whenever she is around Loki, she seems to be a much more happy person."

"You aren't part of this conversation, Stark," Natasha said gruffly.

"I'm stating facts. You've been walking around like someone's kicked your puppy, but whenever Reindeer Games walks in, serious mood swing," Tony continued. "Like when you were all alone in here five minutes ago. Then Loki walks in, says five words to you, and you look like you've just been to the moon or something."

"What are you trying to insinuate?" Loki commanded.

"And what does it have to do with getting the Tesseract back?" Natasha added, getting a firm nod from Loki in agreement.

"Nothing," Tony admitted with a smile. "I think Thor and I are just observing aloud, aren't we, Point Break?" Thor nodded happily.

"Well stop it," Natasha barked as the remaining people of the team walked in. Clint walked in last and glared heavily at Loki in his chair.

"Making sure I can't whisper the truth into her ear about you, Loki?" the archer asked.

"Making sure that you don't emotionally damage my partner for the mission," the god retorted calmly, hands folded on the table.

"Oh, she came running and crying to you, huh?" Clint rounded.

"How much would it bother you, I wonder, if I said she did?" Loki mocked with a smug smile.

"Stop it, Loki," Fury ordered, glaring at the prince viciously with his one brown eye. "Barton, I suggest you start up a jet."

"I already got someone in a jet waiting for us," Natasha announced, standing from her seat. "I was just waiting for Loki, and to see if there was anything else you would like to add to the mission, sir."

"There isn't," Fury said slowly, looking in between his two best agents nervously. "Is there anything that I need to be worried about right now?"

"No, sir, there isn't," Barton answered. "Only Loki whispering lies about me into Natasha's ear and making her his little puppet is all."

"Care to enlighten us, Agent Romanoff?" Fury questioned.

Natasha sent a harsh glare to her fellow Avenger, her arms folding tightly across her chest. "Agent Barton is simply concerned about my mental wellbeing since I am with Loki. Needlessly concerned. As I have told you, Director, Loki is a large asset on this mission, and he has proved exceptionally useful thus far. Barton is being ridiculous, and I do not wish to hear his pessimistic comments about my job." Everyone remained silent. "Can we go, sir?"

Fury nodded, and Natasha quickly left the room, leaving Loki with the others. The God of Mischief bowed his head slightly to the team and took his leave, his long strides quickly catching up to the Black Widow's side. "Don't you think that maybe that was a little… harsh?" he wondered.

"I said what needed saying, is all," she replied. "Don't tell me you're disappointed?"

"No, just surprised that you would so willingly put Barton into trouble like that. Being that the man is supposed to be your best friend."

"Right now, he and I are anything but best friends, Loki," she answered, climbing into the quinjet and taking a seat.

Once they arrived at the airport, and the S.H.I.E.L.D agent left them, her whole mood seemed to change around him. She was smiling more easily, and being that they had arrived two hours before their plane was meant to leave, she even vouched that they look in the gift shop and browse. Loki was surprised with her happy attitude, but decided not to comment on it, in fear that she would revert back to her troubled behavior again.

They walked into the quaint little shop, people swarming around the merchandise, and making Loki feel unbelievably crowded. She gravitated toward the snow globes in the back of the store; thankfully there were less people in this area. "I never figured you one for these kinds of meaningless toys," he remarked casually.

"I'm full of surprises," she replied, picking one of them up and shaking it. It held the Empire State Building, some of the windows lit up majestically as the fake snow trickled down. "I suppose that it's almost a way to torture myself," she commented, her voice melancholy. "It's this little world in which everything is perfect. All of the little figurines have perfect lives, and there is nothing that could ever go wrong in them. They're happy and normal. I could never have that." She set the snow globe back on the rack and stared at the dozens of others with a sad expression.

Loki frowned, not quite understanding her logic, but understanding enough to know that there were times that even the great Black Widow wanted a normal life. She didn't want all of this weight constantly falling on her shoulders. "Well, I would imagine that the figurines would want the opposite," he told her, picking up the snow globe and holding it out to her. "They're stuck doing the exact same thing every day. Perhaps it is they who desire adventure?"

"If they had it, they wouldn't want it," she said coldly.

"And if you had what they do, do you not think that you wouldn't want it?" he retorted.

Natasha shrugged, taking the knick-knack out of his hands and giving it another shake. "Do you ever wish that you were normal?"

"Never," he said easily. "Mortals are ugly creatures."

"Okay, maybe not mortal normal, but Asgardian normal. Like if you were actually Odin's son, or just some other god up there who wasn't feeling all of the things that you do now?"

The suggestion made him pause for a moment as he deliberated. Now, he supposed he could understand her sentiment. It would be nice if he could be removed from everything happening. Knowing that there wouldn't be a single moment where he could be blamed for the things that were happening. He wished that someone else could be in control. But only sometimes. Being the person that he was, he had real power. He had recognition, even if it had a bad connotation, he had it. "Occasionally, I suppose," he admitted. "But then when I look at the alternative, I don't complain. I am a prince."

"A very much in trouble prince," she reminded with a small smile.

"But a prince nonetheless. I've seen things and done things that most people would only dream about. I don't have regrets."

"Now, that can't be true," she argued playfully, moving away from the snow globes and looking traveling coffee mugs.

"I am happy with the choices that I have made. Some more than others, but overall, I'm happy."

"I think that you're lying to yourself about that," she commented. "Or you actually are happy simply because you blame others for your misfortunes and problems. Like Thor or Odin. When in reality, it's all on you. You just don't want to accept that."

"Perhaps, but nevertheless, no reason to fix that which isn't broken."

"I think you're very broken," she muttered. "You've even said as much before all of this."

"How much longer until our flight leaves?" he asked, terminating the conversation.

"An hour," she replied after looking at her watch. "We should buy something," she stated.

"You live in New York, I highly doubt that you need a souvenir to commemorate it."

Natasha rolled her green eyes at him. "Fine, then let's get something to eat before we go. Airplane peanuts are not exactly what I would call a fitting meal."

"Alright. Where would you suggest?"

"McDonald's fries are always good," she answered.

"Lead the way," he said, letting her take his hand and tug him from the gift shop.

* * *

As they sat down on the plane, Natasha made a quick dash to the seat by the window, smiling evilly at him. "You get to deal with any old people," she teased, fastening her seat belt.

"And you call me an infant," he teased, taking the remaining seat and strapping himself in.

"That would be because you are," she replied, leaning up and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. Immediately, all of his senses came alive at that moment, and all he could think of doing was turning her head around so he could kiss her properly. And he was absolutely positive that she was aware of his sudden distress, as she started chuckling.

"You really ought to warn me when you are about to do that," he whispered into her ear, grabbing a magazine and flipping it open to a random page.

"Why? So that you don't start spontaneously drooling?" she teased.

Loki merely rolled his eyes and started reading the article, finding it somewhat interesting. Humans' ideas of astronomy were obviously limited, but it was funny to see them flounder with their pathetic little mysteries of the universe.

* * *

As they touched back down in Munich, Natasha couldn't help but feel a little relieved. Though this was soon to be the epicenter of hell on earth, she couldn't deny that this place felt nice.

They walked into their hotel, dismissing the receptionists curious gazes as they trekked up to their room. Even being back inside the small quarters felt wonderful for the redheaded agent. Nevertheless, she charged to her pillow on the bed and slid her gun underneath it.

"You want to go for a walk? My legs need to stretch," she stated.

Loki nodded and threw on a long black coat that dwindled at the back of his knees and flattered his lithe figure far too much for her comfort.

Their walk was surprisingly peaceful, she found. It has one of those silences where neither felt the need to occupy it with mindless chatter. She looped her arm around his and rested her cheek against his arm, hiding from the harsh wind. She felt his lips graze the top of her head, and she couldn't stop the smile that broke out across her face. She should hit him for doing that, but all she found she could do was smile. Natasha pulled away slightly and showed him the bright smile she was wearing. She suddenly saw Loki leaning in towards her. Both stopped walking, and she watched helplessly as his lips continued to get closer and closer to her own until they finally touched.

It was a hesitant kiss, and it only lasted for a moment, but that was all that Natasha needed to pull away from him entirely and stare at him. "What the hell was that?" she demanded, casting a look around and not seeing any pedestrians walking by.

"What do you mean 'what the hell was that?' You could have stopped it," he barked, looking flustered and unnerved.

"What made you think that I wanted you to kiss me?" she yelled in a whisper, punching him angrily in the arm. "There isn't anyone around for you to prove our fake marriage to, and you suddenly get the idea that kissing me is a good idea?"

"Well, forgive me for mistaking your large, happy smile as an invitation!" he barked back.

"How do you even know if it was a real smile?!" she ordered.

"How do you even know if it was a real kiss?" he retorted, throwing his hands up in the air.

The comment stung her, and she suddenly felt tears creep into her eyes, and it definitely wasn't because of the biting wind. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked down at the cement sidewalk under her feet, biting her lip. "Let's go back to the hotel. It's getting too cold," she said in a tight voice.

There was absolutely no reason for her to be as hurt as she was by the comment, but she was anyways. Everything that she had seen from him, she had taken for attraction, and even now, she was confident that he was attracted to her. But the fact that he may or may not have wanted to kiss her at all made her gut wrench painfully.

Oh, if only she could find a local shooting range. She needed to let out some steam and connect herself back to the mission. Befriending Loki was a mistake - probably the biggest mistake she had ever made in her long life. She had let the God of Lies weasel his way into her mind, just like Clint had told her he would. Loki possessed her. Even without that stick.

Having feelings had never hurt so badly. Betrayal, anger, sadness, pain, hurt, all of them were coursing through her body at lightning speeds and making her head and heart spin. What had he done to her? She used to be so unfeeling when it came to reality. It never affected her like this. He had taken control over the infamous Black Widow and had compromised her. She was weaker now because of these feelings.

As soon as they arrived back at the hotel, she grabbed her nightgown and slammed the bathroom door behind her, locking it. That was when the tears exploded from her green eyes. Her body shook with pain, and her cries scratched greedily at her throat. Fumbling with the knobs, she turned on the shower, divested of her clothes and climbed in. The water was ice cold on her body, but they disguised her tears. Eventually the coldness started to get to her, and her cries turned into shivers. She could practically feel her lips turning blue, and it was then that she switched the water to a scalding hot that burned away any remnant of emotion that she was feeling.

By the time she turned the water off and climbed out of the shower, she felt… better. Maybe not how she used to before she ever met the God of Mischief, but better than how she had been acting. The emotions from his cruel words were still tumbling through her head, but she pushed them to the recesses of her mind, letting the importance of their mission overtake her. There was nothing else but the mission. Get Schmidt to trust them. Kill Schmidt. Steal back the Tesseract effectively saving the world from the German. And then send Loki's slimy ass back to Asgard where he can be punished to the highest degree.

She emerged from the bathroom, seeing Loki sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees and looking nervous, maybe even a tad remorseful, but she didn't care. "I, um, bought some food," he started, pointing to the little makeshift table that had a couple to-go boxes on it. "I don't know if it tastes good, but, I figured that you should eat."

Natasha walked over to the food and flipped over the lid, staring at his peace offering with disdain. There was an assortment of noodles and meat in the mix, and quite frankly, it looked delicious. She could feel the water building up in her mouth as she continued to look at the food. Mentally slapping her hand, she grabbed both of the boxes of wonderfully smelling food and threw them in the garbage can. "Probably poisoned them," she surmised.

"I don't think that that was necessary," he commented.

"You want to kill me, don't you? Food poisoning is always a good way to go," she retorted, folding her arms across her chest, staring him down. "I'm going down to the cafeteria for dinner." Where all of the disgusting food is, she added in her head. "You can fish out that crap if you still want to eat it. Don't follow me," she ordered, grabbing her robe. She ran her fingers through her still damp hair and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Her trek to the cafeteria was a long, painful one, and a part of her desperately wanting to run back up to the room and eat the food he had bought for her. Even if it had been in the garbage. Maybe it was all a big misunderstanding? Maybe he had said what he did just to get back at her? Maybe he really had meant the kiss and it was real? It was true, she had led him on in that moment, and it was a great lapse of judgment for her that she would regret for forever. But at that moment in time, it had felt so right. Like she was meant to stay at his side and let him kiss the top of her head. But it was wrong. It had all been a lie, she told herself. It had to have been his endgame all along. Get her to have feelings for him, and then crush her. Well, she wasn't the kind of woman to get crushed by feelings, and she was going to prove it to him. She wouldn't be hurt.

"Miss?" she heard a man ask in German, and she looked up to see a relatively young man looking at her anxiously. He had a rugged look about him that reminded her a little of Thor but with a dark beard and finely cropped hair. "Are you… alright?" He cast a glance at her in her robe and nightgown, and if she had any strength left from her crying, she may have blushed with embarrassment.

Natasha flashed the man a breathtaking smile and blinked any tears away from her eyes. "I'm fine," she replied in German. "Husband troubles," she said, lifting her left hand to show off her ring.

"What did he do?" he asked nicely, taking a seat next to her.

"How do you know it was something he did and not something I did? Because I think that I am more to blame than he is," she answered, looking down at the table where Styrofoam plate sat with an assortment of fruits decorating it.

"I don't think that someone as beautiful as you could have done anything wrong," he praised. The comment was generous, but it didn't mean anything to her, and at the moment, she didn't want to put in the extra effort to make a fake blush.

"Are you flirting with me?" she asked. She realized that at the moment, she could just about anything she wanted. She could have mad, passionate, revenge sex with this man, but something held her back. Even though she wasn't in any way affiliated with Loki that way (as of one hour ago) she still felt like she would be betraying him. Though he had been the first to betray her trust, she wasn't sure if she could actually take that final step and give him the payback he deserved.

"Maybe I am," he admitted. "I just don't see the point in a someone like you being sad by a man. I would divorce him if he makes you like this."

Natasha smiled softly. "If only it could be that simple," she replied with a sigh. His hand fell on top of her own on the table and her eyes flashed up to his brown ones. She preferred blue to brown any day. She pulled her hand away from him and gave him a rude look. "I may be going through difficulties in my marriage right now, but that by no means signifies that I want to cheat on him. I suggest you leave now."

The man sighed and gave her a tiny smile that she didn't bother returning. He left her at her table, and she grudgingly finished the fruit on her plate.

She slowly walked back up to her room, unlocking it and finding Loki still on the couch, both boxes of take out still in the garbage. At her entrance, she replaced the firm mask on her face, meeting his blue eyes with no emotion. He stood and folded his hands in front of him, looking disturbed. "How was your dinner?" he asked politely.

She looked at the food in the garbage. "How was yours?"

"Well, gods don't need nourishment constantly like mortals, so I didn't eat anything," he replied hurriedly and then bit his lip.

"Then why'd you buy food for you? You're wasting our money," she chastised, taking off her robe and climbing into the bed and grasping the handle of her gun. She turned her back to him and stared at the door, fighting to make sure that the tears wouldn't return.

"I thought we could talk," he said quietly.

"I don't want to talk," she stated clearly, squeezing her green eyes shut.

His shoulders hunched over slightly and he ran a hand through his raven hair. "Are you mad at me because of the kiss or because of what I said afterwards?" he asked.

"Does it matter?" she retorted.

"I think it does. If we are going to be good partners and pull this act off, we need to act like we don't hate each other. I believe you were the one to point that out our first time we were here. And then we went up that mountain, and had, what I believed to be a good time."

"Loki, I do not want to talk to you right now."

"Then at least tell me why you're angry?" he suggested.

"I'm not going to grace that stupid question with a response."

She felt his hand tightly grab her arm and yank her out of the bed, throwing her on the floor. She felt fear tremble through her body as she stared up at him, but she refused to let it show. "I think I've tolerated your attitude for long enough.," he declared. "I bought you food which you promptly threw into the garbage, and then you go down into that cafeteria and flirt with that man, and now you won't even talk to me! My patience is wearing thin, Natasha."

"You followed me down to the cafeteria?" she demanded, standing and glaring at him. "After I told you not to follow me?"

"Don't act so surprised," he mocked. "How nice it was to get comfort from that man, I wonder? Apparently not nice enough for you to stop being a bitch."

"Why do you even care what I do? It's not like we're actually a couple, and I have to be loyal to you!" she yelled, giving him a mean shove.

"Believe it or not, that shower didn't really drown out those tears," he stated, and she froze, her eyes widening and her mouth hanging open in shock. "And since I considered us to be at least friendly acquaintances, I figured that I would try to better your mood as I have had to do countless times. But then I find that all of my efforts are anon because of some rugged mountain man in the cafeteria."

It took her a moment for her to gather her bearings, and she blinked harshly at the fresh tears threatening to come out. "I didn't sleep with him," she finally muttered. "Told him to get lost."

Loki wasn't exactly sure how he should respond, so he simply nodded and walked back to the couch, his head falling in his hands.

She made him so frustrated sometimes, it was insane. One minute, she was happy and awaiting his kiss, not even pulling away from him, and then, as soon as it happened, she hated him vehemently with everything in her. He didn't know what to do. And he had heard her crying in the shower, and all of his anger with her evaporated. There was something that he had done that had caused her the pain that she was feeling. Normally, he wouldn't have cared that he had been the root of someone's despair, but Natasha… It was upsetting just to see her sad in general, but it was something completely different with him being her reason for sadness. So he thought that he could win back her favor over a nice dinner that he had ordered. But the Natasha that walked out of that bathroom was not the Natasha that he had befriended. It was the Natasha he had met first - her trying everything she could think of in order to hurt him and unravel him. It had been the Natasha who truly wanted to kill him, and had sold her life to him in order to do it. And then she had to twist that knife in his back by flirting with that buffoon of a man in the cafeteria. Even a superior god like Loki was still very susceptible to jealousy, and he hated the man who had her attention.

He watched at she walked over to the trash can and took out the boxes of food, setting them on the table. "Is there any way you can like… disinfect these?" she asked meekly, looking down into her lap.

"Now you want to be polite?" he growled, seeing her frown deepen. He sighed and walked over to the boxes, letting his magic sweep through him and settle into the food. "They should be fine now."

She grabbed the plastic forks and pushed one of the boxes and forks in his direction and then opened her own. "This doesn't mean that I forgive you, you know that, don't you?" she asked, taking a bite out of the noodles and stifling a sigh of content as the flavors exploded in her mouth.

"I haven't exactly apologized for anything," he remarked, taking a bite out his own food. It wasn't as nice as his Asgardian cuisine, and not quite as addictive as the McDonald's fries they ate earlier, but he supposed that it was a nice, comforting food.

"Do you ever plan to apologize for something?" she asked him. She still didn't sound like the Natasha that he liked, but she didn't sound nearly as terrorizing at the dark and crude one from earlier. He would have to compromise.

"Do you ever plan to tell me what to apologize for?" he rounded. "Because I still don't know why you're mad at me."

"Why do you think?" she asked roughly.

"I'm going to elect to not answer that question at present. You're in too much of a sour mood, and I fear that I would answer incorrectly. And then it would be worse," he answered with a smug smile.

Natasha shrugged, accepting the vague reply and continued eating her dinner.

She finished a little before he did, and he watched as she climbed back into the bed, her back facing him and her hand creeping underneath the pillow to no doubt, grab hold of her precious gun. He sighed at her mood and threw away the boxes for good this time. Loki laid down on the couch, turning his back awkwardly in order to fit on the small piece of furniture. Gods, he hated this thing. Maybe, if things had gone better earlier, he would have had a shot with the bed, but he knew better than to test her already tepid waters right now. She could have the bed, and he could suffer the aches that tomorrow would bring. Because he would deserve it.

* * *

**So, there is the next chapter. I know, I know, I'm a terrible person for making them have that big blow out fight at the end. But hear me out! They've been basically best friends this entire fic, and knowing their strong willed and stubborn characters, I just don't see them being able to be all buddy-buddy forever, you know? But hey! There was a kiss that was thrown in there so that should at least win me a couple of points, right? Right? Maybe? Please don't hate me! I suppose that I should also apologize to Tom for making a sad chapter for him, but it is where the story had to go! I have plans, I assure all of you! And they will be able to get back on track very shortly, I promise. Probably the next chapter. And if not then, then definitely in the one after that. I can't stand for them to be angry with one another either!**

**Let's see if we can hit 70 reviews guys! I know we can! Let me know what you thought of the chapter, but PLEASE NO FLAMES! I will gladly take constructive criticism, but there is no reason to hate on the author enough to make her cry! Not that any of you have done that in the past, but you know. :D**

**Oh, and I don't own McDonald's! Or their wonderfully, amazing, perfect, delicious, sinful fries!**

**Love you all lots! Even though it doesn't look that way now!**

**- Books**


	11. His Natasha

_**Chapter 11 - His Natasha**_

**And here we are again with the next chapter! Thank you to those of you who reviewed. Didn't quite hit that 70, but something tells me that we will this time around, yes? You all have been leaving such kind remarks, and they really make my day, so I thank you for that from the bottom of my heart. You guys are amazing. :D Also wanted to thank **_Lalamo _**for giving me a certain idea for a piece of this chapter. Was waiting for someone to ask me that! Haha, thanks for the inspiring question, my friend!**

**Oh, and I also heard from other authors that last week, fanfiction was having a hormonal fit of sorts and wasn't working for everyone. I do apologize; I had no idea. I hope that it wasn't too bad for you guys out there! And I hope that fanfiction decided to fix itself. I haven't had any significant trouble, and for someone who has everything bad happen to them, I would take this as a good sign.**

**Haha, anyways! I'm sure you guys are done hearing me ramble, so we shall continue with the story. :P**

**Disclaimer: *still bawling her eyes out because of last disclaimer***

* * *

"Get up," he heard her gruff voice order, and then felt a hard punch delivered to his shoulder, causing his back to twist even further into the minuscule couch. He let out a pained groan, opening his blue eyes to glare at the redheaded offender.

"This piece of furniture isn't fit for a god," he complained, sitting up and resting a hand on his back, trying to work out the kinks in his muscles.

Natasha scoffed, her arms folding in front of her chest. "Then make it bigger."

"Your timing is rather poor. As usual," he mentioned, quickly employing use of his magic to make the makeshift bed slightly wider for his broad shoulders.

"I think it was good timing," she chimed in with a smug smile.

He stared at her, watching as she turned and grabbed a new set of clothing before dodging into the bathroom. The shower turned on only a moment later, and he let out a sigh he hadn't realized he had been holding. He watched the door with a frown. Was she still upset with him? From whatever it was that he did to upset her? Though he was used to people being disappointed in his actions, her anger with him was something he did not like. He shouldn't care, but he did. Out of all of the pesky mortals, she was the one woman who he hadn't absolutely despised. She was perhaps the only beacon in the dimly lit world; his diamond in the rough.

The thought brought a small smile to his face, and he looked down the brown carpet to hide it. Diamond was definitely not a word that people would attribute to her if they knew the real her, and yet it was the only word that he could conceive to describe her. So complex, so diligently carved and perfected. Displaying a multitude of colors or personalities when the sun would hit her just right. She was a mystery to him, and he could not help but marvel at her, trying to find imperfections that were not there.

Even her lips had seemed perfect, he thought, smile widening to an unfamiliar size. Though their kiss had been brief, the softness and touch lingered on his own. He figured that she had not felt the electrifying spark as he had, otherwise, their evening may have ended quite differently. Her rejection had stung him, though he hadn't been overly surprised. _Love is for children. _Did he love Natasha? No, he didn't. Though she constantly berated him and called him childish, he was confident in his feelings for the spy. Lust was all he felt for her, and he was equally confident that that was all that she would ever feel for him. This was good, he told himself strongly. Emotions brought on a burden that he had no patience for. It only brought on an inevitable hurt and pain.

Coming out of the bathroom in sweats and a t-shirt, she picked up her key card. "I'm going to go downstairs for breakfast. Don't follow me, and I mean it, Loki." She exited the room without another sound, leaving him alone once more.

She seemed devoted to the task of avoiding him, and though he had no objections to solitude, he couldn't help but feel saddened by her disappearance.

Deciding to use his time wisely, he headed into the bathroom for a shower of his own, enjoying the frozen water droplets cascading onto his pale skin. It cleared his head and left him refreshed.

After his shower, he stared at his own keycard, debating on whether to follow his partner downstairs for breakfast. He recalled her warnings to leave her alone, but he was the God of Mischief, after all, and it would be a disrespect to his character to let her have her way. He had been kind enough to her lately, and she needed to remember who he was.

With that thought, he grabbed his keycard and left the room, walking downstairs to the dining hall. There were numerous people in the area, each carrying plates of syrup bathed pancakes and glasses of orange liquid. Her bright red hair immediately snagged his attention however, and he could not help but be pleased when he saw her sitting alone and not with an attractive male. She dragged her fork lazily through what he presumed to be eggs, and though her back was to him, her shoulders slumped. She turned in her chair to glare at him, and he flashed her a wide smile, coming to join her at the rickety table.

"I told you not to follow me. Again," she growled, setting her fork down and pulling her hands into her lap as she glared at him.

"And I decided to follow you. Again," he teased, taking her abandoned fork and using it to stab at a sausage link, taking a bite out of it. "You really shouldn't be surprised."

"Forgive me for mistaking you to be a gentleman," she said sarcastically.

Loki chuckled playfully. "Wherever did you come up with this hypothesis?" he wondered.

"Well, you bought me dinner last night, for one. Then, you let me have the bed," she mentioned, cocking her eyebrow at him in question.

"Only because I did not see a reason to upset you further. It would gain me nothing."

"And coming down here after I explicitly told you not to would?" she retorted.

"Sustenance is a gain," he replied, holding up the sausage still on his fork as proof.

"I thought gods didn't need to eat as much?"

"Keep your voice down, Natalie," she chided, casting uneasy glances around at the chattering family at surrounding tables. "Wouldn't want to blow our cover, would we? As you are all about the mission, of course."

She sighed and stole away her fork, finishing the remaining sausage. "Go get your own food if you want any," she said, resuming her sifting through her eggs again.

Loki watched her thoughtfully, resting his head on his fist. "Are we going to discuss a plan to speak with Schmidt?" he asked randomly.

"I'd rather not talk about that here," she spoke roughly.

"Then shall we go for a _walk?" _he teased. Unsurprisingly, she stood from her seat and threw the rest of her food in the garbage, leaving the hall. He diligently followed her, once again not shocked to see her slam their bedroom door before he could enter. Chuckling, he swiped his key card into the lock, opening the door and grinning madly at her. "Did you really think I wouldn't take precautions?" he mocked, holding up his key card proudly.

"Why do you insist on bothering me?!" she demanded, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation. "Why can't you sulk and brood on your own?"

"Is that was Barton does when you two are on a mission?" he remarked. "Or are you two too busy in the throes of passion for him to brood?"

"You leave him out of this," she growled, jabbing a finger into his chest. He grabbed the offending hand and tugged her close, their chests touching.

The humility had evaporated out of his sharp face and his playful gaze had turned cold and threatening. "I thought we agreed no touching?"

"That's funny. I seem to remember you trying to make out with me last night," she growled. "Let go of me, Loki."

He released her at that moment, but the anger remained plastered on his face. "You are trying my patience, Natasha. I would be wary of what that entails. You forget that I am a god, and you are nothing but a mortal. I could crush you with my bare hands at this very moment, and you would be powerless against it. Unless you wish to die by my hand -"

"I thought we already agreed on that?" she mocked.

"Would you want your death to come before the end of this mission?" he retorted.

"Oh, you would wait until we won before killing me? How thoughtful," she continued.

"Well, I have a gentlemanly reputation to keep, apparently," he answered with a smug smile. For a moment, it almost appeared as if she was his Natasha again - the Natasha who would smile. Her green eyes twinkled, and the corners of her tantalizing lips turned upwards slightly. The moment however was brief, and she turned around and walking back to the table, taking out her laptop.

He sighed sadly before throwing himself onto the bed, flicking on the television. He leafed through the countless channels, finally settling on a documentary about the Vikings. After ten minutes, his eyes traveled over to Natasha, watching interestedly as she worked, fingers flying across the keys, and green eyes analyzing everything on the small screen. He knew he would vehemently deny it if she asked, but at that moment, all he really wanted was to see her smile again. Or laugh, or anything that represented the Natasha that he knew - his Natasha.

His eyes widened in alarm at the repetition of the thought and he refocused his gaze on the television. She _was not _his. There was nothing in her that belonged to him, and he liked it that way, or so he told himself. The personality that she typically showed around him was not his, like Tony claimed yesterday. The tiny twinkle in her eye that she would adapt when he said something witty was not his. The way she desperately tried to hide a smile; that wasn't his either. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing, he repeated to himself, taking deep, soothing breaths to calm himself. He would have to be more wary of his traitorous thoughts from now on. They obviously could not be trusted when she was being considered.

"So, I've got an address of where Schmidt lives," Natasha announced, turning in her chair to stare at him. He looked trouble at the moment, and it was clear that she had interrupted a rather pensive thought. He was currently gazing at his hands, being wrung tightly in his lap. She couldn't help the curiosity that raced through her at the sight, and she tilted her head to the side.

After another second, his trepidation disappeared entirely, and he appeared as the arrogant god he was. "What do you propose we do about that then?" he asked, turning off the TV and giving her his full attention. His eyebrow arched teasingly at her, and she looked back to her computer to fight the smile.

"I say we go and invite him to the theater," she said coolly. "There's supposed to be a ballet performance tomorrow night, so it would be the perfect opportunity." Not to mention, she enjoyed ballet, she added in her head.

"And you wish to go and invite him now, yes?" he concluded, standing from the bed. "Would it not be strange for two, supposedly unimportant people to go to this man's house to deliver such an invitation?" he questioned. "If he was at such a party the other night, we can only assume that he really has the monetary value to have been there. Whereas we do not. Not to mention, he is very little acquainted with us, and already holds a grudge against me -"

"That was your fault," she interrupted.

"And he didn't actually invite us to his house to finalize any sort of plans," he finished. "By all reason, we aren't supposed to know where this man lives, and it would be suspicious to show up unannounced."

Natasha frowned, running a hand through her red hair. "So what then?" she demanded. "We just wait until he starts world take-over and then ask him kindly if he wants to go to the theater?"

"I expected more expertise from you, Agent Romanoff," he teased, coming to her side and giving her a gentle push out of the her chair. "The Black Widow, incapable of cornering her prey." He chuckled, closing her internet page and opening another. "Quite humorous, if I do say so, myself."

"Shut up," she growled, giving him a shove, only receiving a playful shove in return, which infuriated her to no end. How dare he pretend like nothing happened? That she wasn't angry with him, and that he had hadn't kissed her and then made fun of her? "What are you doing?" she asked, leaning over his shoulder, and then pulling away at the gentle waft of old parchment drafting through her nose. He would not get the best of her. He would not win.

"A man of his stature, and of his intellect and arrogance, would not be keen on hiding in his mansion, waiting to strike. No, a man like him will be out in the open, attracting the love and attention of his peers. Not like us," he added in a gentler voice.

"You seemed pretty intent of getting attention; I wouldn't call you two that different," she chimed in with an indifferent shrug.

"Perhaps. However, unlike him, I am knowledgeable on how to play the game in the dark. I can cope with hiding, where he cannot. I've had to do it my whole life," he answered. "Ah, here we are!" he exclaimed joyfully. "Apparently, there's a local fundraiser later today that he is supposed to make an appearance to. We can corner him there, invite him, and then be on our merry way." He paused. "There does seem to be quite an awful lot of activity going on around in this town."

"It's Munich," she justified lightly. "It's a pretty popular place is all."

* * *

Natasha couldn't deny the tingling she felt in her fingers as her would-be husband took her hand, weaving them through the sea of people in the square. Loki's tall frame was determined, blue eyes darting everywhere at once, it seemed, set on finding one specific target.

"There he is, Natalie," he whispered, tugging her along until they seemed to be in front of everyone, Schmidt perched behind a podium with a large smile. "I will leave the talking up to you, as he and I are not on joyful terms," he murmured, his smell making her feel anxious, yet calmed at the same time. As she stared up at the tyrant, all of her previous emotions rushed through her system. Fearful anticipation was building inside of her, but she flashed a wide smile nonetheless and clapped enthusiastically with the crowd. After his speech, she felt Loki's hand settle delicately on her lower back, as if to push her to Schmidt. However, at she felt his thumb make gentle sweeps on the shirt, she took it as a calming gesture, and the normally blue mocking fire in his eyes was soft and encouraging now.

With a nod of determination, they reluctantly approached Schmidt, Loki's hand feeling more forceful as it wrapped its way fully around her waist and pulling her close to him. "Mr. Kaiser!" she exclaimed jovially and with her best smile.

The man turned in his position and faced them. For a moment, his face remained passive and blank, as if he did not recognize them. After a second, he smiled gently and approached the couple. "Yes, I did believe I saw you amongst the crowd," he mentioned. "I would have expected you to have gone home to America by this time," he stated.

"We have a little longer yet," Loki said in a cold voice, Natasha elbowing him in the gut.

"It was a wonderful speech," Natasha praised.

"You speak German?" he asked, surprised.

"Not completely fluent, but yes," she replied with an excited smile. "World languages are so fascinating to learn."

"Well, I suppose that it is important to have something to do in your spare time," Schmidt acknowledged rudely, though Natasha remained unfazed.

"And what do you like to do in your free time, I wonder?" Loki drawled with a smug smile.

"I enjoy reading," Schmidt answered easily. "History books in particular. WWII is such an interesting subject, in my opinion."

"I would assume so, being that you're German," Loki continued, earning a glare from them both, but he shrugged and directed his gaze elsewhere.

"Yes, the Germans were in this war," Schmidt agreed. "Sometimes I ponder what could have happened for this country had we won, but I suppose we shall never know, shall we?"

"I guess not," Natasha claimed with a giggle. "I'm not sure you remember, Mr. Kaiser -"

"Klaus," he corrected, and Natasha smiled shyly, letting a blush bloom on her cheeks. She felt Loki's grip tighten, and when she looked up at him, the god was glaring darkly at the tyrant.

"Klaus," Natasha purred. "Well, Tom and I were going to attend the ballet tomorrow evening, and we were wondering if you would still be willing to attend such an event with us. It would be so very enjoyable, don't you think, darling?" she asked, looking up at her partner.

"My love, it would be wonderful," he answered dutifully with a confirming nod.

"I do believe that that would indeed be an enjoyable evening," Schmidt agreed. "Shall we meet there at eight o'clock then?" he asked.

"Sounds perfect," Natasha replied with a smile.

"Well, forgive me, but there are other things that need to be done at this time, so I must go. Lovely seeing you two again," he finished, flashing them a smile before disappearing to talk to one of his managers.

"You damn well nearly blew our cover," Natasha growled as they began making their way back to the hotel. His arm remained tightly wound around her waist, and though she was still angry with him for everything, she didn't protest. "Again," she added for effect.

"That man disagrees with my personality," Loki reasoned. "There is nothing that I can do to like a man who I firmly despise."

"Funny, I always assumed you two would end up best friends or something. What with your world domination plans and all."

"This man wanted to kill the entire human race. That was never my goal," Loki argued.

"You were going to destroy the Jotuns," she pointed out.

"They were a race of monsters who were going to kill my fat - Odin," he retaliated.

"So you hate Schmidt for wanting to kill the human race?" she guessed, choosing to avoid the subject of his father.

Loki shrugged, not wanting to answer that question in the slightest. He cared not for the human race, and he cared not that Schmidt had once desired to exterminate their filthy race. He hated Schmidt because of Natasha. He hated how much she feared the German, and he hated how much the man disrespected her and aggravated her fear. A part of Loki wondered if she had ever feared him this way, and he hated this notion as well. He knew that he annoyed her at times, and he could recall seeing her scared because of his words, but that was different. She had purposefully allowed him to see that fear, and he doubted that it was ever really founded fear in the first place. How she would act around Schmidt though was a whole other story. Her breathing would become labored and her pupils slightly more dilated. That was fear, and he hated seeing her that way.

"Something like that," he finally answered, hoping she would quit her probing about the topic. "Are you hungry?" he asked, just to ensure a subject change.

Natasha shrugged. "I'm fine."

"Aren't mortals meant to eat three times a day?" he remarked playfully.

"I'm not your run of the mill mortal, Loki," she retorted, and it was then that she actually smiled, and the sight brought him joy.

"Thank Odin for that," he stated, earning a rough shove.

Things were finally getting back to normal.

* * *

"I have to wear that suit again?" he whined, his frown prominent on his face as he stared at the offending piece of clothing. The first time he had worn it, he liked feeling the power that the garment gave him, but now, it was an uncomfortable article that made him feel ridiculous.

"Well, yes," she said obviously, holding out the tuxedo in front of him. "We're going to the theater, not to IHOP."

"I don't see anything wrong with IHOP attire," Loki grumbled, standing from the couch and tearing the suit from her hands. Last night, he had taken her to the little pancake house, and he couldn't deny, the sweet blueberry pancakes could very well have been considered a delicacy, even in Asgard.

"If you want to blow our cover, then go ahead and wear that," she regarded.

"I am apparently so very good at it," he agreed, getting a slap on the arm.

"Go shower and change. It's six, and I need time to get ready," she told him pushing him in the directions of the bathroom.

"So abusive," he mocked, and at her glare, he held his hands up in surrender and dove into the bathroom for cover, hanging his suit on the rack.

Natasha sighed, watching the door close, and she began rhythmically rubbing her temples. Her mind set itself into the mission fully. All of her anger and confusion for Loki dissipated as she steeled her mind. All that was important was gaining Schmidt's trust enough tonight. They had to win him over, follow him to his lair, and then call for the Avengers. It was simple.

So then why was there an instinctual pain in her gut that told her otherwise? Though this was one of the most dangerous missions she had ever been on, she had still been confident. Until this moment. Tumultuous fear rumbled through her belly, making its way up her throat, and for a second, she felt nauseous. She fell back onto the bed, feeling shaky. A cold, vice like grip settled onto her heart, and she could feel the sweat cumulating on her brow.

"Natasha?" Loki's voice sounded garbled in her ears, and her head snapped up to meet his gaze, the world fuzzy and out of focus. "Natasha, what's wrong?" he demanded, walking to her side and giving her a steady shake. Old parchment swept through her nose, her accelerated heart rate slowed, and her breathing steadied. The nausea dispersed, and she felt like she could breathe again. "Answer me, woman!" he growled, shaking her again.

"Nothing," she muttered, swallowing back any remnant of bile in her throat. "It's fine. Just a dizzy spell or something," she dismissed.

"Your skin is warm," he commented, his hand falling on her face, and she sighed, closing her eyes. She could feel his thumb trace even circles on her cheek, and her face cooled. "This is not like you," he continued worriedly.

"It's fine," she said again, pushing away his hand and standing from the bed. She grabbed her dress, a stunning silver, and dodged into the bathroom. Staring at herself in the mirror, it was clear why Loki had been so anxious. Her normally pale skin was sheet-white, and there was still a small collection of sweat coating it. Plump red lips had turned to a less vibrant, blanched pink.

She showered quickly, trying her best to calm her body with the scalding water. Her whitened skin turned a blotchy looking red, and she turned the water cooler, feeling calmed and relaxed by the temperature change.

Dressing, she let the shimmering silvery gown hide her nervousness. She applied her makeup, hiding her face. She left the bathroom with a confident smile in Loki's direction, and though he didn't say anything, she knew that he wasn't buying her act. He gave her the smallest of smiles and walked to her side, handing her a silver handbag. "You're not going to change my dress green?" she joked, trying to dissolve his worry for her.

Loki simply shook his head, still not saying a word, which partially infuriated her. On one hand, she appreciated his concern for her - she couldn't really remember a time when anyone else really cared about how she felt about missions. Granted, any other mission, she wouldn't have felt this anxiety, but her thesis still applied. Clint probably would have cared… in his own way. He had never been one for comforting, and though Loki's prowess in that area left many things to be desired, Loki knew how to soothe her nerves the best. However, she also hated this worry that her partner was currently harboring for her. It could jeopardize the mission, and she didn't like thinking that she actually needed someone's concern. She could take care of herself. Her problems were her own, meaning that they were hers to deal with and no one else's. Especially not Loki's.

"Whenever you're done staring at me, Immortal God," she said in a harsh tone, looking longingly at the door. She wanted to get this mission done.

"Simply waiting for you to feel at par, Natasha," he said gently, offering her his arm with a smile.

She took his arm without thought and allowed him to lead her from the room and through the lobby. The same black SUV from their first visit was waiting for them patiently.

Upon arrival at the theater, Loki presented the ticket boy with a fake pair of tickets before walking in, searching for Schmidt.

"I was wondering when you two would show up," Schmidt's calculating voice stated from behind them, and the couple swiveled to meet the man's brown gaze. An outgoing looking blonde woman was perched on his arm, baby-blue eyes wide and welcoming, so unlike the hawk-like hunger in Schmidt's murky brown. "My wife enjoys ballet," he said. "This is Nicole. Meet Natalie and Tom."

"Pleasure," the woman said, extending her hand. Natasha kindly shook her hand and Loki kissed the back of it, making the woman blush. "Shall we take our seats?" she asked in broken English, and all three nodded in agreement, walking into the auditorium and finding four available seats. Natasha analyzed the wife carefully, hyper aware of every move that she made. She did not seem afraid or disturbed by Schmidt's touch, rather, she appeared to instigate it, taking his hand and kissing his cheek frequently.

Natasha cast a glance at the man pretending to be her own husband, seeing him also watching the accompanying couple invasively. As if sensing her stare, Loki snaked an arm around her waist, ducking his head low to whisper in her ear, "Do you think she knows of her husband's deeds? Giggle if you think yes." Natasha let out a playful, silly giggle, seeing Loki's eyes light up at her answer.

"Beloved," Nicole purred. "Did you remember to bring the binoculars?" she asked, extending her hand in question. Schmidt pulled out a set of binoculars and passed them over to his wife without a word.

"Why is he acting this way?" Natasha whispered into Loki's ear. "Don't you think that he should be trying to convince us of his love for his wife?"

"Schmidt at the moment has no reason to worry about us being aware of his current plans," he explained. "And we already know very well of his opinions of women. There would be no reason for him to treat his supposed wife any differently."

Natasha nodded in agreement.

"So, Klaus, what is that you actually do?" Loki started, pretending to look interested.

"Business owner, actually," he replied.

"What kind of business?" Loki continued.

"It's an environmental movement," he answered dryly.

"It's quite wonderful, actually," Nicole added. "He is such a caring man underneath this exterior. He's like my hero," she said sweetly, snuggling into her husband and kissing his cheek again. He took no notice of her touch. "What does your husband do?"

"I'm in the banking business," Loki said tersely.

"Well, I suppose the whole world can't be out saving the world," Nicole remarked.

"Interesting way of putting it," Loki mumbled so only Natasha could only hear, and she chuckled.

"Pardon?" Nicole asked politely, batting her eyelashes.

"Oh, it's just an inside joke that he and I have," Natasha claimed, snuggling into Loki to prove it. She felt his lips press firmly on her head, and had she not have been on the mission, she may have hit him. He had done that on purpose, knowing exactly what the hidden meaning behind that was, as if to taunt her. Damn him! Now was not the time to be playing games! Still, the desire for revenge was so very tempting, even in the throes of a mission. Smirking beside herself, she pulled away from his slightly, giving him a smug smirk before planting her lips on his. She felt his body stiffen, and just before she went to pull away, his lips responded, making her gasp. Natasha pulled away fully, hiding her surprise expertly and returning to settle into his embrace.

* * *

The performance was rather beautiful, Natasha had to admit. The dancers exhibited their craft with precision and grace, as if the music was flowing through their veins and being the gateway to their movements. The costumes, which she knew could sometimes be hindrances, seemed to be anything but in this case. They only amplified the intensity of the dances and the passion that the characters were meant to feel. Even the sets had been painstakingly perfected.

"I must say, I don't know if I've ever seen such a wonderful ballet in my life," Nicole commented as they exited the theater. The wind howled unpleasantly around them as they emerged into the night air, and Nicole tugged her light jacket tighter around herself. Natasha, without a coat, stood there simply, wrapping her arms around herself to fight off the cold being presented to her bare arms.

"I told you to bring that coat, darling," Loki said exasperatedly, and Natasha watched with wide eyes as he divested his jacket, draping it around her shoulders. Without saying a word, she tugged the thick jacket closer to herself, letting the old parchment scent wash over her and calm her. She saw him smile at her acceptance and merely rolled her eyes in response.

"If you would be willing, we would love to have the two of you over to our house before you retire for the evening," Schmidt offered.

"We would be honored," Natasha answered. Loki arched a brow at her in surprise, but she firmly ignored it, climbing into the limo as it approached.

"Are you sure about this?" Loki whispered into her ear as he took a seat next to her. She gave a steady nod and kissed his cheek. The other couple stared at them curiously. "Ehehe," Loki chuckled. "My wife, she well, she hasn't been feeling well as of late."

"We can certainly reschedule," Nicole interjected.

"Oh, but they won't be here for much longer, will they, Nicole?" Schmidt retorted, keeping his eyes fixed on Natasha.

"I shall be perfectly fine. Thank you for your concern," Natasha replied, unconsciously shrinking into Loki's side under Schmidt's offending stare.

As they came up to the mansion, their faces remained passive. Yes, it was a beautiful piece of architecture, but the perfection of the place was on neither of their thoughts. Loki's hand found its way into hers, and she welcomed it more than she would have cared to admit.

"I'm just going to go freshen up," Nicole announced. "Care to join me, Natalie?"

Desperately wanting to remain with Loki, she knew she could not possibly give any reason to rouse suspicion. She nodded happily and gave Loki a peck on the cheek, pulling her hand out of his. His gaze was one of warning as she took step after step away from him. She gave him her best smile, seeing how it didn't change his face in the slightest. Rounding a corner in the house, she knew for sure that the furthest she had been from safety - from Loki - than she had ever been.

Loki stared nervously after Natasha, not trusting the wife in the slightest. Schmidt stared intriguingly at him, and the god found himself gulping in anxiousness. "Care for a drink?" Schmidt asked.

No, he thought sourly, I wish to find Natasha and bring her back to the hotel, and get the fuck away from you. "That would be nice," he found himself saying.

Schmidt smiled at him and led him to the kitchen. "Women and their beauty," he remarked. "It is almost a drug to them. When I was growing up, one saw more natural beauty than is found today. It's all covered up by these ridiculous products."

"One of the many reasons I fell for my wife," Loki commented, watching carefully as Schmidt began mixing the drinks. "I've never seen a more beautiful woman in my life," he continued, finding his statement to be perhaps the most true statement he had ever made.

"Your wife is remarkable; it is true," his enemy agreed. He passed Loki a glass and took a sip out of his own. "One of a kind."

Loki hesitantly brought the drink up to his nose, smelling the distinct aroma of alcohol. Not smelling anything out of the ordinary, he took a tentative sip, surprised at the taste. As if unable to help himself, he downed the remainder of the glass, feeling more relaxed.

Schmidt smiled again, and Loki knew immediately that he had made a mistake. "Let's see what I do with your one of kind wife now," he said. Struggling to summon any magic, the world around him whirred and spun, leaving his stomach gurgling in upset. Schmidt's evil grin was the last thing that the god could see before his world went black.

* * *

He groaned, pain erupting in every crevice of his form. Blue eyes opened to meet the highly arched ceiling, and he promptly rolled onto his side, vomiting the contents of his stomach onto the hardwood floor. He could still feel the effects of whatever was in his drink coursing through his system, and he supposed that it was only because of his god status that he was even awake at the moment.

"Natasha?" he moaned weakly, struggling to stand. There was no answer. "Natasha?" he tried again, stumbling into another room. Still nothing.

The adrenaline kicked in, and the nausea faded into the background as determination filled his gaze. He searched every room, crying her name louder and louder as he went, each room fruitless. Tears burned in his eyes and anger took over. Fighting the pain in his head and stomach, he released his magic, searching for any other soul, for her. When the spell revealed nothing, he tried again. And again. "No!" he yelled, hitting the wall and leaving a large hole.

His Natasha was gone.

* * *

**Dun, dun, dun! First cliffhanger for the story! Now, don't be mad… okay, I suppose it's a little unreasonable for me to ask such a thing. Just know that this had to happen! It had to! For the plot to work, for their relationship, for EVERYTHING! I have a plan, people, rest assured.**

**Now, I know how much cliffies suck. I've been on the receiving end far too many times. So, here is my proposal. I know we didn't quite hit ten reviews this time around, which is cool. I'm not one of those authors who holds chapters hostage. But, if we can hit ten reviews BY MONDAY, I will update on Monday or earlier. Because I don't have school that day, and not a lot of homework this weekend. Thank you, President's Day. So, you like? Let's do it!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	12. Psychological Warfare

_**Chapter 12 - Psychological Warfare**_

**Holy crap, you guys! 16 reviews! Eeeep! I can honestly say that I am surprised! My gosh, let me just sit here and marvel at the greatness of my readers, seriously! And they were all so lovely and kind! You guys made me blush…**

**Although, I have to say, I was so proud of myself cause no one really guessed what was going to happen, and when an author has her unpredictably about her… it's a good feeling, let me tell you. But I love all of the input about what you think is going to happen! It just shows how much you are invested in the story, and that is certainly nothing that I am about to complain about.**

**But I'm sure you guys don't want me to ramble on about how PERFECTLY AMAZING you all are, so let's just get down to the story, shall we? I promise the romance is coming, people! Just wait a little longer!**

**Disclaimer: Just own the plotline for this story. No, this doesn't include Tom, so there is no reason for a royal fangirl stoning. :P**

* * *

When she opened her eyes, Natasha Romanoff could instantly feel tears burn at them, and she blinked rapidly, fighting the breakdown. As she beheld her predicament, she couldn't deny the utter surprise she felt at the sight of her arms and legs splayed out of the grated metal beneath her. Why wouldn't they tie her up? Granted, it wouldn't really help them; she was ready for everything and anything, but it was shocking nevertheless. They thought that they could win against her. The thought made her want to smile evilly at their stupidity, but upon trying, she felt nothing. Her lips didn't move, or at least she didn't think they did. Her eyes widened at the lack of movement, and she stared determinedly at the tips of her fingers, willing them to move, twitch, anything. Nothing.

The tears that she first felt as she awoke threatened to spill out of her green eyes again. She could see her chest rise and fall rapidly as she grasped her situation more fully. _Move, _she begged her body. Nothing. _Move! _she screamed again in her mind. Nothing.

"Oh, goodie, you're awake," she heard from behind her, and she desperately wanted to turn her head to stare at her attacker. Nicole stepped into her line of vision, a cold and chilling smile plastered on her still heavily painted face. The short black dress from the ballet was still on, so Natasha could only assume that there hadn't been an excess of time since her kidnapping. "I was wondering when you would come to."

"Go to hell," Natasha wished to say, but felt nothing vibrate in her throat to convey the words.

Nicole, if that even was her name, laughed heartily and crouched down beside Natasha, running a sharp nail down Natasha's cheek. "I expected more, I must say," her kidnapper said sadly with a pout. "The famous Black Widow…" _Yet nothing more than a pretty face, _yes she had heard the smug speech many a time in her career. However, this was the first time she had ever felt the sting of helplessness cling at her. "I mean, you were definitely wary, as you should be. But, really? Walking into a room, _in front of me? _All it took was one simple injection." She held up a syringe, filled with a clear liquid. "And a good smack on the head of course, and you were out. Pathetic. I've had better matches against lesser spies before, and I was expecting so much more resistance."

Natasha analyzed the vial carefully, as if trying to identify the foreign liquid. She made a pointed look to Nicole, whose smile grew larger. "What is it?" she guessed. "Oh, just a simple drug. It inhibits a chemical in the, what our doctors call, 'the myoneural region'. Pretty fancy term. And it causes something called quadriplegia. Pure body paralysis. I'm sure that you can understand that."

Natasha fought the tears, feeling utterly helpless. Her body, the greatest weapon that she had, the only weapon she had at the moment, gone. Her own body, the one thing she could always rely on, her only foundation of trust, had betrayed her. She was a rag doll, waiting for whatever punishment that her captors saw fit to deliver to her.

"Oh, now don't cry," Nicole chimed, smearing a wetness over Natasha's cheek. "I hate it when people cry. I would say that I hate seeing you like this, but… well, how many people have actually incapacitated the Black Widow?" She held up the syringe before walking behind the spy. She felt the tip of the needle dive into the back of her neck. "There. To be administered once an hour," Nicole told her. "With that special serum in your veins, we've had to up the dosage, unfortunately. You'd probably be able to get away with only having it once every five or six hours if you were a regular human. But alas, you're not."

Natasha heard the retreating clacking of Nicole's high heels and Natasha allowed the tears to flow, unable to stop them. She was lost.

After another ten minutes of self-pity, she blinked away the tears and focused more on the world around her. They had to be in the mountains, she figured. The air was cool, something that she supposed she could expect from the Alps. Breathing in as deeply as her paralyzed body would allow, she could taste metal in the air, so she had to be near Schmidt's weapon factory. She strained her ears, begging to hear anything that signified people. She was met with rhythmic clinks and taps, and then the sound of what she presumed to be power tools.

This was good, she told herself. If there happened to be anyone who would pass her by, there was a chance that she could manipulate them into letting her go. Hell, she could probably even convince them into giving her a counteracting drug so she would have movement back.

Though she had formulated a sturdy plan for her escape, she still felt scared. The silver dress she had worn from the ballet was torn in the skirt and was crusty with frozen sweat. She saw the goose bumps decorate her bare arms, and she desperately wished for Loki's warm coat.

What had happened to him? Natasha couldn't help but wonder. She could remember that look of warning he gave her as she left his side with Nicole, and she wished so terribly that she would have taken that advice more seriously. He had been worried for her. There was no doubt in her mind that he had not wanted her to leave his side. Maybe he was worried about being alone with their enemy, but she had a gut feeling that it was deeper than that. Loki would have had no reason whatsoever to fear Schmidt. He was a god, and Schmidt, well… wasn't.

So then where was he? Shouldn't he have been here, with her, just as drugged up as she was? Shouldn't he have been here, giving her that steady, steely blue eyed gaze that would calm her frantic nerves? But no, he wasn't here. She didn't even have the old parchment smell from his coat there to comfort her. She was utterly alone.

Maybe he was in another part of the fortress, her mind supplied. If Schmidt was any kind of smart, (and given by her predicament, she felt it was safe to say that he was) he would not have left the two of them together to formulate a plan on escaping.

That brought on an onslaught of new thoughts. Once she found a way to get out of this, she would have to go and find him. So where would Schmidt keep him? Logically, it would make sense to keep them as far away from one another as possible. But something told her that he would have put Loki mockingly close to her. He was arrogant enough to think that neither of them would find a way to escape, so it would seem poetic how close, yet so far they would be from each other.

The simple idea that Loki was somewhere close to her brought a sense of serenity to her. Even if she couldn't see him, she knew that she would be safe. If she couldn't find a way out, Loki would. And Loki would come for her. She didn't know how she was so confident in his rescue, but she just knew. And lately, her gut hadn't been wrong.

* * *

Loki tried to take steadying breaths, clutching the telephone with paper white knuckles as he dialed them, pushing the green phone button to send the call.

"Romanoff? Damn it, where have you been? We've been calling for hours!" he heard the Director bark into his ear, and if Loki hadn't been so absorbed in his worry for his partner's wellbeing, he may have smirked at the fatherly tone the man gave.

"She's been abducted," Loki interrupted, earning a heavy silence on the other end.

"You wanna run that by me again? And this time without the humor?" Fury said in a low voice.

"I meant exactly what I previously stated. Natasha has been kidnapped," Loki explained, already growing tired with the one-eyed man's ignorance of time.

"And where were you when all of this went down?" Fury asked.

"I was being incapacitated obviously," Loki drawled, running a hand through his black hair and feeling more and more frustrated. "If you are concerned of where my allegiances lie, then we are going to have to have that discussion once we get her back. Right now, I can assure you that my only intention is on getting Agent Romanoff back. My allegiances lie with her," he said hurriedly.

"I just find it interesting that you, a god, weren't able to take out a mortal," Fury continued.

"Your petty humans managed just fine," Loki spat. "Time is of the essence," he said clearly. "It has already been eight hours since my disposal, and I suspect that the longer we wait, the more danger she is put into. Send your team to Munich immediately."

"You don't get to order me around, Loki. Prince of Ass-guard or not," he mocked.

"I don't care what my privileges are at the moment, you petty man!" Loki yelled. "If you want to see your beloved agent return home, you will do what I ask of you. Now!" Loki hung up at that moment and instantly set out to investigate the house further. "I'll find you, Natasha," he murmured lowly. He already suspected that the house wasn't connected to Schmidt's lair, as the fortress was suspected to be buried deep in the Alps, and his house wasn't anywhere close to the terrain. However, that did not mean that Schmidt hadn't left plans and details lying around.

It would be hidden, he suspected. A hidden office. Schmidt wasn't idiotic. Obviously if he had the power to dispose of a god, he had more power than Loki would like to admit.

He found an office in the corner of the house, and quickly set out to rummaging through the tyrant's drawers. He glanced at paper after paper, deciding them each unimportant and tearing them each to pieces before discarding them on the floor. He knelt and looked under the desk for anything that stood out. As he recalled in one of the movies he had seen on the television, madmen would sometimes have hidden devices that would expose passageways or laboratories. At least that was how Gene Wilder found his ancestor's laboratory in Young Frankenstein.

Finding nothing in area, he dodged to the bookcase, tearing out every book, hoping one of them could trigger something. He even tore out the candles on the sides. Nothing happened.

Screaming in frustration, he ran across the house, set upon finding Schmidt's bedchamber. Finding it, he proceeded to the bookcase and continued to clear the shelves of the literature there. Still. Nothing.

Loki fell backwards onto the ground, hands burying his face as he fought the urge to weep. Where was she? All he could imagine at that moment was Schmidt, standing over her, torturing her with that evil grin that he wore. And those were the more pleasant notions. What if he was… touching… her? His hand unconsciously clenched into a tight fist, and he banged the wooden floor underneath him. Unexpectedly, his fist fell through, catching the god off guard.

With a fresh light in his blue eyes, he swept aside the ornate rug, seeing the puncture wound he had created in the floorboards. There was a room.

Smiling for the first time since he awoke, he pushed away the rest of the rug, finding the handle to the door and throwing it open. He raced down the little staircase, conjuring a small ball of light at his fingertips to guide him through the passage ways.

The office here was completely different than the one above the ground. Blueprints covered every inch of the walls, each delicately detailed. One held a drawing of the Tesseract, followed by a series of extravagant equations that he didn't understand. When Stark or Banner arrived, he would have to direct them to this room.

Crossing over to the desk, he found several manila folders, and he opened each, pausing at one that had the words, "Natasha Romanoff" written in black ink across the top. Several pictures spilled out, each a clear image of his Natasha. The day at the airport in Munich, at the gala in her stunning green dress, even when they arrived at the airport a second time. Loki had been glued to her side in each of the pictures, and while he noticed there were many conjectures as to who he was, no one had quite rightly supposed that he was a god. Everywhere, however, it was written that he and Natasha were most likely lovers, and that the husband and wife façade probably was accurate, even if they hadn't before acknowledged that the Black Widow had been married.

In another picture, he saw himself standing alone. However, it was the red stamp that stole away his attention. "Terminated." Had Schmidt thought he had killed him with the drink? Well, Loki thought with an evil smile, he would just have to surprise the villain.

He then began looking through the map drawings, feeling a wave of relief wash over him when he found where Schmidt's lair was in the mountains. Or at least where he had planned to hide Natasha. The Tesseract's location was not amongst the goods being taken there. Poetic, he thought as he stared at the map. It had been just underneath him and Natasha when they trekked up the mountain together.

Now, the only question was whether he should go to the mountain now and find her on his own and risk capture, or wait longer and draw out her agony as the Avengers tried to get to Munich. He looked at a clock. It had been an hour since he had spoken with Fury. They should be here soon. Though it went against every grain in his gut, he would wait.

* * *

As the hour ticked on since Nicole's last visit, Natasha found herself slowly adapting to the drugs they were giving her. By the third visit, the spy found that she was able to speak before Nicole injected her with the vile drug.

At the fourth hour, Schmidt entered her prison, the mask removed from his face and leaving a blood red face. His eyes were hollowed out, nose protruding at a awkward angle. Unlike the pictures she had beheld once before from Steve's files, there were scars. Perhaps the Tesseract had done more damage than he had once expected. Sharp lines split the angular features of his face, and if Natasha had more control, she would have grimaced at his horrendous appearance. The fear she had once felt for this man was nothing compared to the terror that was spreading through her body now. Nicole had been human, a fierce bitch of a human, but a human nonetheless. The monster that was standing in front of her at that moment represented the evils that humanity tried so desperately to disguise.

His sneer would have sent a shiver up her spine, she had no doubt, and immediately, she felt sweat start to gather. His red claw of a hand reached out to her, and she wanted to do nothing but pull away. It was leathery as it stroked her bare arm, nails digging in and leaving a trail of blood in their wake.

"Red has always been my favorite, you know," he commented dryly. "And my, Natasha, it does suit you all too well." _And you do look so very ravishing in green. _Loki's voice in her head made her smile despite herself.

"I like green, personally," her dry throat croaked.

"Ah, yes, like your lover?" Schmidt assumed, his fingers still remaining on her arm. "Tell me, he is an interesting fellow, what is his true name?"

"He has nothing to do with this," she said harshly. "Just a tool to get to you."

"Oh, but your feelings for him are real, aren't they?" he mocked. "Just as his feelings. How would you feel, I wonder, if I were to say that he is dead?"

Her throat clenched, and tears gathered in her eyes. "I would call you a liar," she growled, refusing to believe it. No, he had to be alive. Not only because it was her duty to kill him, but she couldn't imagine her life going back to how it was without him. She needed him in her life, whether she hated him or not, she needed him. Loki was not dead. It wasn't possible. He was a god!

"And why would that be?" he sneered. "You think me kind enough to spare him?" _And what will you do if I vow to spare him? _she heard his cool voice slither through her ears, sounding like music in her head. How she wished to actually hear him! He couldn't be dead!

"He isn't stupid enough to fall for your tricks," she replied, trying to keep her voice cool and controlled and the tears away.

"Would this picture convince you otherwise?" Schmidt asked, pulling his hand away and burying it in his leather jacket, withdrawing it a moment later with a photo of a collapsed Loki on a hardwood floor. He was abnormally pale, and there was a glass shattered around him.

"You're a monster," she said in a hushed voice, closing her eyes and refusing to look at him. She didn't want to believe it. She couldn't believe it. It wasn't possible. Schmidt was simply toying with her mind, using her, torturing her psychologically. Numerous people had tried to affect her this way before, and she could get through it. It wasn't real. The demons Schmidt was creating in her head weren't real. The doubt that had erupted in her stomach wasn't real.

"You should know, darling girl," Schmidt cooed, running his fingers through her hair with a saddened tone. "He truly loved you, till the bitter end. He even relayed to me that he believed that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever set his gaze upon. One of the many reasons why he fell in love with you apparently."

Natasha's mind was reeling, and the emotional anguish tearing through her body was the most painful feeling she had ever experienced in her life. "What do you want?" she demanded, eager for her torture to be over. She wanted to die.

"Not much, I must admit," Schmidt said simply. "Your allegiance would be appreciated, but it is not necessary."

"Then what?" she growled.

"I suppose all I can ask is for is your death." _Still intent on killing me?_

"You can have it," she snarled, glaring at him.

"Oh, I do not think it shall come so easily. Psychological torture is far more effective than physical. I think that all I desire is to watch you slowly waste away, dwelling forever on his death. Can you do that for me, darling Natasha?"

"Go to hell."

"Hela had no affection for me, unfortunately." He sighed. "I will leave the photograph with you. Perhaps it will be inspirational?" he mocked, resting the picture in front her so she could see it clearly. Instantly, she shut her eyes. "Oh, I almost forgot!" he exclaimed with a laugh. "Can't have you leaving, can we?" The needle tore through the back of her neck, and she slowly felt her body's fire extinguish and her tongue feel like lead in her mouth. "I will be back in an hour."

_Would have preferred to see the full smile, but I will take what I can get, _she heard his voice. Even when he had been annoying to her, he had always expressed his desire to see her smile. He liked her smile. And now, he would never see her smile again. Loki was gone.

* * *

Loki paced in the house, staring at her picture in his hand. _Please, Odin, let her be safe. _He needed her to be safe.

At this point, he cared not for the importance of hating her existence. He believed that he had never truly hated her. She had simply been… well, his diamond in the rough. She had fascinated him, having a life with more complexity than even most Asgardians. The world was her oyster, as the saying went. She was a puzzle, and he had been so tangled in her web that he had forgotten how much he had intended to hate her. He couldn't hate her though. The one woman who brought him joy, it would be a disgrace to hate her.

The doorbell suddenly drove him out of his pessimistic thoughts, and he ran over to the door. Warily looking out the peephole, he sighed in relief when he saw a human looking group of Avengers on the porch, Stark annoyingly ringing the doorbell again and again.

He flung the door open, Stark pressing the contraption one last time before drawing his arm to his side and giving him a large smile.

"Clean up crew!" he chirped happily, pushing Loki aside and barging into the house, the other following. Thor came in last, and he rested a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving him a soulful look. For once, Loki was glad his brother was there.

"What happened?" Rogers asked as the door closed. "Fury sent us over here and didn't exactly tell us what was going on."

"Yeah, aside from the fact that you fucking lost Natasha, asshole," Clint growled. "You let her out of your sight, and now, she's probably being tortured by some horny dictator. That is, if she's still alive."

"Schmidt is under the impression that he has killed me," Loki said in a cool voice, showing them his one picture. He would not let the others recognize his distress. He couldn't. He was the only one who could find her, and showing worry and concern was not a proper way to go about it.

"Do we have any lead on where he could have taken her?" Steve continued to question, ignoring the picture and staring at Loki.

"Yes. He's in the mountains, just as we predicted -"

"No shit," Clint barked.

"The more you interrupt, Barton, the longer it will take to get back your darling woman, so I suggest you keep your mouth shut for the remainder of the discussion," Loki ordered, his patience with the stubborn agent running unbearably thin. "I know which mountain, and I suggest we go immediately."

"Is the Tesseract being kept with her?" Bruce asked, rolling up his sleeves.

"No. That secret remains hidden. At least for me. Schmidt has an office in his room; there are blueprints everywhere. Many of them are written in an equation form, and I don't understand them. Perhaps if Banner and Stark were to remain her and decipher them while everyone else goes to retrieve Natasha…"

"Look at you, giving orders. Something happen between you and Red?" Tony surmised, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

"It shocks me how little you seem to care for your teammate," Loki growled.

"My brother speaks wisely," Thor announced, clapping his hand on his shoulder once more. "I think it is best that we depart now. Tony, Bruce, remain and see if you can make sense of Schmidt's plan." Loki sent his brother a thankful glance, earning a nod in return.

Thor, Steve, and Clint made ready to leave, dressing in their customary uniforms while Loki donned his own armor. The four quickly left the house, Loki leading the way up to the mountain. At the base, they all searched frantically for the hidden passageway.

"Did it even say where she was being kept in the mountain?" Clint wondered aloud.

"No. I just saw that it was his plan to bring her here. We'll have to split up once we find a way inside this blasted mountain," Loki groaned, feeling frustrated. He looked over at Barton, seeing the man scurrying around, looking everywhere. He looked just as worried as Loki felt. "Don't you see better from a distance, Barton?" Barton looked up from a rock, pausing, and then nodded, running to climb up to the top of a neighboring mountain to look.

"Can't we just blow a hole into the mountain?" Steve asked after another twenty minutes of fruitlessness.

Loki would have blushed with embarrassment if he hadn't suddenly gotten excited by the prospect. Quickly, he began working his magic, feeling it collect in the palms of his hands as he contorted the growing ball. With a forceful push, he shoved it to the rock, watching as a green wave enveloped the side, leaving a wide hole. Dozens of men were inside, and all froze in shock at the sight of their intruders. "I'm going to find her. Take care of them," he ordered the team, seeing the Avengers fall into action against the HYDRA soldiers.

He needed to find her. Quickly. He suspected that upon hearing the explosion, Schmidt's number one priority would have been to steal Natasha away to another one of his safe havens. He focused on her image in his head, fingering her picture in his pocket and trying to sense her. He cast an additional illusion around himself, hiding from probing eyes as he searched through the facility.

After five minutes, he found her, and he froze at the sight of her small frame. For a moment, he thought her dead, and his Frost Giant blood never felt so cold in his veins. However, he saw her inhale slightly, and this overjoyed him to the point that he nearly cried. Her arms and legs weren't bound, thank Odin, but she was sickeningly still.

Beside her, he saw a picture of none other than himself, collapsed on Schmidt's floor and looking quite unresponsive. Smiling, he crouched beside her and rested his lips next to her ear. "Did you think me dead?" he teased.

He saw her eyes widen in alarm, and he suspected her to turn rapidly around and hit him, but she didn't move. Loki frowned and rested his hand on her arm. "Natasha?" he asked worriedly.

"L-Loki?" she replied hesitantly. "Where are you?" He quickly disbanded the cloaking spell, seeing her eyes light up in recognition. "I thought you were dead." She glanced over to the picture, something he promptly destroyed. "Schmidt doesn't know that you're a god," she divulged.

"Let's keep it that way, then, shall we?" he said teasingly. "What did they do to you?" His voice sounded hoarse and pained, and Natasha wanted so desperately to reach up and slap him.

"Drugs," she said simply. "Some brilliant idea to keep my movement to a minimum. Schmidt will be back in a few minutes to give me more of the drug. We need to leave."

"You can't move at all?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I'm pretty sure that that's what I just said," she smarted.

"Quite ironic, if I do say so myself," he admitted with a dark chuckle. His arms slipped under her light weight and lifted her from the ground. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" he suddenly asked, a spark of fright appearing in his blue eyes.

"No. Let's go, Loki," she begged, breathing in his old parchment smell and feeling safety and security engulf her. This was probably the furthest away from hurt she could ever be.

"I'm going to teleport us out of here. The others will be fine," he mentioned.

"Others?"

"Barton, Rogers, and Thor are here," he explained.

"You called them?!"

"I can't believe you would expect me to do anything else, Natasha," he murmured. "Hold on."

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" she snapped. "Cause it isn't funny."

"Sorry. Close your eyes then." She promptly did so, and then felt her whole world spin around her, feeling his grip around her tighten. Her stomach was doing flips, and her heart felt like it had just run a marathon. "We're safe," he told her. She opened her eyes, meeting the interior of an unfamiliar hotel room.

"Where are we, Loki?" she demanded as he laid her out on the bed. He rushed into what she presumed to be the bathroom and came out with a wet cloth, moving to wash away the dried sweat on her face with care.

"I wouldn't be surprised if Schmidt knew where our hotel was. And the room we were staying in," he explained carefully, the ice cold water from the towel soothing her. "So, I thought that a different hotel would be best… In a different country."

"What?!" she exclaimed, feeling her eyes widen.

"We're just in Switzerland; you can relax. I just thought it best that you abandon the frontlines for a while." He paused, looking unsure of himself. "I'm glad you're safe," he said quietly.

"I thought you were dead," she repeated.

"Did you mourn?" he asked curiously. His thumb replaced the cloth on her face, and he tenderly swept away the onslaught of tears that were emerging in her eyes.

"Did you?" she retorted.

"I went on a rampage, honestly. Schmidt will not be pleased when he returns home." He left her side and picked up the phone. "I probably should tell Banner and Stark that they need to leave. And to get the others out of the mountain."

"You left them there without telling them?!" she demanded.

"I don't care about them, Natasha. My only priority was getting you out of there alive. I simply needed backup. Nothing more."

"Even your brother?"

Loki shrugged and finished dialing, holding the phone to his ear. "Stark? Yes, I've got her. We're in Switzerland at the moment." He paused as Stark answered. "She's… it's somewhat difficult to explain. She's paralyzed. A sick joke from Schmidt to turn her body against her, I suppose. He knows who she is. No, he is unaware of who I am. He left me at his house presuming me dead. I assume that you will wish to relay the message to your team that their services are no longer required at the moment - oh good you already have. It wasn't a retreat, moron. I got Natasha, and that was the goal. No, don't put Thor - Hello. Yes, telephones are interesting, aren't they? Yes, I've already explained her condition to Stark." Natasha smiled at his situation. "Natasha needs me. I will speak with you later." Loki immediately hung up and walked back over to Natasha. "You find my pain funny?" he remarked.

"I find everyone's pain funny but my own," she replied.

"Do you feel any better?" he asked, reaching up to touch her forehead.

"A little," she answered. "I can move my fingertips," she marveled, staring down at the appendages as they twitched. "The drug is wearing off." Loki smiled and reached for her hand, entwining their fingers, something that she struggled to return. "How did he know who I was?"

"That I cannot answer," he told her. "You were alive in his time, were you not?"

"You think that he knew of me even then?" she supposed, earning a nod. "It's possible, I suppose."

"He had been watching us. Ever since we first touched down in Munich. I found a file with your name on it when I was searching through the house. He thinks I'm dead though. I'm not sure what he put in that drink but -"

"You actually drank something he offered you?" she mused, and he saw her eyebrow raise.

"I didn't know there would be effects!" he justified. "And I think that you are in no light to blame me entirely. You also fell for whatever that woman did to you."

"Missions 101: do not drink anything," she rattled off.

"Missions 101: never turn your back on your opponent," he retorted.

"How'd you know?"

"There are several puncture wounds in the back of your neck," he answered. He reached behind her with his free hand and touched the holes, his cheerful gaze turning sour. "It's a miracle you're even alive, Natasha. Something tells me that a regular mortal would not have been able to withstand this amount of drugs." The frown on his face grew. "Schmidt didn't do anything to you… did he?"

"Besides drugging me and messing with me?" she questioned sarcastically, seeing his face remain fixed as he stared. "No."

"Then explain these cuts on your arms," he said, looking at the long lines of dried blood. She remained silent. "Natasha? Did he do this?" he redirected, releasing his hold on her hand and neck and holding up her injured arm instead.

"Yes, okay?" she finally responded. "But that was it. I'm fine."

"He had no right," he growled, grabbing the wet cloth again and wiping away the blood. "I'm going to kill him," he vowed, the sheer power in his accented voice making her involuntarily shiver. He cocked an eyebrow at the movement. "Too cold?" he guessed, pulling the rag away.

"No, it's fine," she dismissed. "Must just be my body getting back into the swing of things." He nodded and resumed his cleaning. "Why did you save me?" she suddenly asked. He stopped again and looked at her deeply.

"I'm the only one allowed to kill you, remember?" he said darkly.

"Is that really the only reason?" she wondered. He remained silent. "Loki?"

"I'm as clueless to the reasoning as you are, Natasha. I just… didn't want to see you hurt, I assume. You may have that serum, but… still applies."

Once all of her wounds were finally cleaned, he transformed her torn ball gown into a nightgown upon her request, tucking her underneath the thick blankets. "Could you face me towards the door?" she asked quietly.

"I've always wondered why you sleep like that," he commented, rotating her anyways.

"I just like to be facing the entrance my enemy would come through. Saves me the time of having to spin around and then get out of bed," she answered. "I wish I had my gun," she added.

"You wouldn't be able to do anything with it anyways, you know," he said lightly.

"Just makes me feel safer," she defended.

"I can't get you a gun, Natasha," he argued. "You should sleep."

"Where are you going to sleep?" she asked. "There isn't any couch in here or anything."

"I'm going to make one. Or at least an illusion of one, anyways," he stated obviously.

"Well… since I don't have my gun…" she said quietly, feeling a blush creep up her face. "I'm obviously not moving anytime soon. You could maybe… there's room?" she babbled, feeling embarrassed. Talking with men had never been a problem with her before, but here, in this case, it seems like a bunch of garbled noises were erupting from her mouth. And making her sound like the biggest idiot in the world.

"Are you offering half of the bed to me?" he asked, surprised.

"If you want it," she hurried. "I just… It might make me feel a little bit better to know you're here. After learning a little over an hour ago that you are actually alive and everything." Loki stared quizzically at her for a while before nodding and joining her on the other side of the bed. He situated himself under the covers and turned to face her. "I know it sounds weird, but… can you just… tell me that it's going to be alright? That we'll win?"

He smiled softly at her and leaned forward, pressing his lips gently to her forehead. "You'll get the Tesseract back. You'll win," he assured her.

"And you won't?" she started, staring with large eyes at him.

"My track record doesn't necessarily dictate a winning streak for me," he muttered, reaching for her hand and taking it carefully.

"But you're on our side," she pointed out.

"I'm on your side, Natasha. I don't care about the Tesseract or what becomes of your race."

"Then what would you consider to be winning?"

"My goals have been blurry at best, Natasha. I'm no more aware of a winning situation for me than you are, I would assume."

"Best guess then?" she retaliated, earning a heavy sigh from her partner.

"Right now, my only desire is to kill Schmidt. And for you to be well again," he replied.

"I'll be well in the morning, I'm sure," she soothed.

"Well, then I suppose I can consider that to be my greatest victory as of right now," he told her with that infectious grin. "Sleep. You'll be safe," he urged, pulling her blankets up to her neck.

"I know," she said knowingly, allowing her green eyes to close and sleep to overcome her.

Loki smiled at his sleeping bedfellow, her breaths already deep and sound. Tenderly, he pushed a red tendril of hair from her face kissed her forehead once more, feeling warm skin under his lips. She was safe. She was still healing, but she was safe. Loki, a villain and a destroyer of everything he touched, had saved her. In her eyes, at that moment, he was her hero. And he loved that feeling. _I've got red in my ledger. I'd like to wipe it out. _Maybe there was a way to wipe out the red in his own ledger. And saving her tonight was perhaps the first step to redemption.

* * *

**Ah! There we are! How'd you guys like it? I must say that when I first started writing this story, it was because this WHOLE CHAPTER would not leave me alone. I've had this whole thing planned for quite some time. This chapter is what sparked my desire to even write a little in this fandom. So, there you have it! Obviously, the story isn't over, but that is the one part I could not wait to show off to the world. :D Hope you guys liked it as much as I did.**

**Also, with all of the doctor talk, it's legit. Just so you know, I did my research. My mama has a doctor textbook, and I've got one myself and both of them confirmed the physical phenomenon that Natasha went through. At least what was going on internally. I don't know what would have been injected into Natasha's nervous system to make her paralyzed but I do know that it would have been at the back of her neck.**

**Oh, also, "I find everyone's pain funny but my own" quote thing? That's from Flushed Away, so don't sue me DreamWorks! Haha, I think that's the second quote I've stolen from them, isn't it? Gotta love those movies though.**

**Thank you to all of those wonderful people who reviewed! Made my life. I would like to continue this, but I'm afraid all of my creative juices have run out at this point, so you shall have to wait for Saturday. **_HOWEVER! AND THIS IS VERY, VERY IMPORTANT! _**I don't know if it'll happen with this chapter or the next one that I post, BUT whoever ends up being the 100****th**** reviewer gets a prize. I will write a one-shot dedicated TO YOU, and it can be about anything in the fandom that you want. I don't write M stories and no slash, so that is my only restriction. It doesn't have to be BlackFrost, it can be anything you want. SO BE CREATIVE!**

**My goodness that was a lot to say there! Sorry, but it was pretty important. Leave a review and let me know how you liked it!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	13. What are we doing, Loki?

_**Chapter 13 - What are we doing, Loki?**_

**Hello, again, my lovelies! I'm sick today, and being that I am feeling nauseous in bed, I figured that it would be a great time to get some writing in. And alas, here we are! A couple days early! I'm sure you guys won't have any complaints for that. ;D**

**Thanks for the great response from the last chapter. Reviews make my day, as I'm sure I've said countless times before. Please don't hesitate to leave a review. Only takes a minute and leaves the author in a very happy mood. :D And I love suggestions! If you wanna see the story go a certain way (within reason) let me know! Maybe I can implement your ideas in somewhere!**

**Which also brings me to my next thing: For those of you who didn't read the last author's note at the bottom of the last chapter **_**PLEASE READ THIS! **_**This is kinda a tradition with my stories, so here it is: Whoever is the 100****th**** reviewer of this story, they will get a one-shot dedicated to them. Please make sure that you activate your PM, and I would also ask that you have an account. Just makes the conversing so much easier, you know? But, you give me the idea on what you would like to see in the one-shot, and I do my best to make it happen. Doesn't have to be BlackFrost; it can even be… *gulps and winces* Clint/Nat… if you want. I don't go that way, but hey! Your one-shot! Heck, it could even be about kid Loki and Thor and the kind of adventures they get into! Whatever! Just a warning: I don't do slash, and I don't write anything M rated. Those are my only boundaries. Nothing against those stories; some of the best stories on this site are M rated. Simple facts. I just don't write them.**

**Anyway! Back to the story! Just had to get all that out!**

**Disclaimer: I own no one BUT NICOLE! SHE IS MINE! Marvel… you wanna trade? You can have Nicole, and I can have Loki? Maybe…?**

* * *

Waking up next to the God of Mischief was definitely a point of interest in Natasha's life. Admittedly, she had opened her eyes to her usual partner, Clint Barton, but she would feel in that situation was nothing like how she felt now. Barton, a snoring, bed hoarder by nature, often made Natasha irritated upon awakening. But Loki… It almost looked like he hadn't moved once in the night. His breaths were deep and slow, chest rising and falling almost hypnotically.

She continued to watch him, finding herself probably unhealthily mesmerized with him. It wasn't often where she was able to see Loki in this kind of atmosphere. His normally brooding exterior with hooded and pensive blue eyes - all gone. He looked child-like, innocent, regardless of all of the evil that he had accomplished. From their long talks, she knew very well of the demons that dwelt in his mind, yet here and now, he was at peace. His world was immaculate, and he was happy.

Natasha wasn't sure for how long she laid there, watching his dormant form. It could have been ten seconds, or ten minutes, she didn't know. All she did know was that she had no desire to move.

_Move. _Her eyes widened as she recalled the past days events, and she swallowed nervously. Best to start slow, she figured. Knowing she was guaranteed success, she tested her jaw, feeling it unhinge and hinge again under her command. Relief coursed through her that she wasn't completely paralyzed at least. Staring at her fingertips, she watched as they twitched to life until they clenched into a light fist. She could feel a smile break out across her face, and she proceeded to test the rest of her limbs, feeling like giggling as she felt her legs dance under the blankets. They were weak strides, obviously, the muscles stiff from ill use, but the point was she could _use them. _

Loki shifted next to her, and his blue eyes cracked open. His head turned to her instantly, eyes like saucers in his head as he watched her moving. "You're moving," he stated in what she took to be wonder.

"Loki, I'm moving!" she exclaimed, her smile incapable of demonstrating the true ecstasy she felt.

He smiled equally wide, and the next thing she knew, she was being gathered firmly into his strong arms. Without a thought, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him back, laughing. His hand cradled her head, fingers tangling in her red hair, gripping her tightly. His warm breath flew past her shoulder, and for a brief moment, she could have sworn she felt a droplet dabble her pale skin. But that didn't matter right now. She could move!

Loki pulled back and held her at arm's length, surveying her with acute eyes. "Are you feeling any pain?" he remarked, his gaze falling to her cuts along her arm specifically. "Anywhere at all?"

"I feel good, Loki," she assured him.

"Yes, you would say that no doubt," he mused, but the smile remained on his face.

She rolled her eyes playfully at him and threw her blankets off of her body, marveling at her legs. Never again would she take such limbs for granted. "I wouldn't suggest walking just yet…" Loki started. She heard the rustling of the sheets as he discarded his own, coming to stand in front of her.

"Please, Loki?" she found herself begging, too happy to give him a sarcastic and witty retort. "Please, let me just try?"

Loki stared thoughtfully at her for a moment before sighing and running a hand through his hair. "Odin forbid, I refuse the cripple anything," he mocked. He held his hands out for her to take, though she quickly pushed them aside, set on completing her task on her own.

She could feel her muscles groan as she pushed herself up with her arms. Her legs felt wobbly underneath her, and she clung tighter to the blankets for support. It surprised her how much energy it took to complete the simple action, and already she felt slightly weary. After another moment, she let go of her support, maintaining her equilibrium as she flashed him a smug smile of triumph. "See?" she remarked. "I told you I could do it." She took a careful step forward, feeling her body vibrate as the little remaining strength disbanded. Her legs collapsed from underneath her, and she felt herself crumpling to the carpet, only then to feel Loki's arms latch onto her small waist.

He chuckled airily into her hair while she grasped his arm tighter than was perhaps necessary. "What was that?" he teased. She fell silent, feeling a blush settle into her face as the humiliation set in. "I think that that's enough walking for now. You're just getting movement back, and you shouldn't try to overstep your abilities. We don't know what kind of drug that was administered and what the potential side effects could be," he warned.

She flipped her hair around to glare at him, only to realize just how close his face actually was to her own at that moment. The teasing smile vanished, and the cheerful twinkle in his blue eyes went out, a new light taking its place, a light she instantly recognized. She found herself swallowing unconsciously, something that she soon saw he reciprocated.

Kissing him on the mission was different. That had been for the mission. It had been imperative at the time. Or that's what she told herself, anyways - that she had needed to fool Schmidt. That it had nothing to do with the curiosity of what kind of kisser he would be. That was just unheard of.

But the look in his eyes was so very similar to the look he gave her before their first kiss. She could see the quick glances down to her lips and could practically see the mischievous wheels spinning in his head. And just like last time, she knew very well that she could look away, stop the moment from happening. The pain he had caused her after that kiss was not pain that she wanted to repeat under any circumstances. Natasha had the power to stop the impending touch. But, just like last time, she found herself rather rooted to the spot. Whether that be due to his arms locked around her midsection, or the dazing look he was currently giving her, she didn't know. Just like last time, she watched just as helplessly as his lips neared her own.

Just like last time, the touch was feather light, hesitant and brief. The softness of his lips however caused her eyes to close and relish the contact all the more. His lips pulled away from her own abruptly, as if he was expecting her to hit him like last time. But unlike last time, she remained frozen, eyes still drooped closed as explosions of colors danced behind her lids. She felt her lips turn up in a soft smile. In surprise, she felt his lips touch hers again, this time not as guarded. He was confident, yet still remarkably gentle as his lips tenderly massaged her own.

They both felt shock rip through them as she began to reciprocate the kiss, reaching up with her still weak arms to wrap them around his neck, pulling him closer. Her fingers knotted in the naturally curly, raven hair, feeling his grip on her waist tighten all the more.

Natasha felt control slipping away from her as she felt him begin to dominate the kiss, lips becoming demanding and tongue begging for entrance. At that moment, she froze, pulling her head away and staring at him in fear. Her lips felt bruised, and probably the best they had ever felt, but the terror that was raging in her belly quenched all desire to kiss him again.

She was never the kind of woman who fell to the power of others, especially men. She had control. It was imperative in her lifestyle. Without it, she was nothing, just another woman swayed by hormones and the wishes and wants of the opposite sex. She needed control. And at that moment, as he had kissed her, control slipped through her fingers and disappeared.

Seeing the look in his eyes, she knew exactly what he was thinking: 'What will she do?' To be honest, she didn't know what she would do. Natasha wanted to hit him, slap him, punch him, kick him, anything to get his impure thoughts of her out of his head. The Black Widow wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and experiment - see what he would do with a woman like her. And then, there was a small, hidden part of her that she had never let the world see before, that wanted to hide. She felt like a little girl again, and not because he was centuries older than herself. She felt that fear of not knowing, like she had felt in the academy. And she felt scared. Powerless.

He let go of her suddenly and looked away. She dislodged her hands from his neck and looked down at the floor, fighting to remain calm and relaxed. She knew that he would be able to tell the difference, but she wasn't about to let him think that he had her willingly.

Natasha watched as he ran a hand through his messed hair, exhaling loudly. "That was… unexpected…" he started, avoiding her gaze. She didn't care; she was too busy admiring the pattern of the blue carpet underneath her bare feel. "You should probably sit down, at least," he rushed. She quickly took the advice, still keeping her head bent low. She felt the bed sink as he took a seat beside her. Out of her peripheral, she noticed him fidgeting with his fingers. "What exactly… just happened?" he asked. The woman beside him remained stoically silent. "We're not going to talk about it?" he assumed.

"What is there to talk about?" she croaked. Loki frowned at her answer, feeling as if she had just stabbed him in the back. No, he didn't love her, but rejection like that stung. "You were the one to kiss me, so… that's on you," she added.

"You kissed me back," he pointed out.

He noticed her swallow before looking up at him, what appeared to be tears making her emerald eyes shimmer. "How do you even know if it was a real kiss?" she asked, moving to stand again. So that was what it had been before. The original reason why she had been angry with him.

Latching his hand tightly onto her arm, he dragged her back down to the bed and took her small face in his large hands, pressing his lips firmly on hers. He felt her gasp against him, but he made no move to pull away. It was an angry display of affection, he had to admit, but that didn't discount the smoothness of her full lips, and it didn't ruin the passion there either. For a moment, he truly expected her rage to lash out and maybe for her sharp nails to be dug into his face. But the only thing she did was squirm away from him, failingly, yes, but her aversion to kissing him gave him pause.

"Please stop," she pleaded against his lips, and it was then that he pulled away from her. He could see just how desperately she fought for control of her body, but nevertheless, he could see tears dwindling in her eyes. "Loki, I…"

Unsure of how to proceed, he simply held his hand out to her, a token she stared at for some time before finally resting her palm in his, watching as he carefully entwined their fingers. "I'm not asking you to return anything, Natasha," he whispered. "I just…"

"That's not it," she sniffled, still staring at their clasped hands. He knew that she was aware of his staring, but she remained quiet for a while longer, locking away her emotions. "I don't exactly know what to say," she breathed. He smiled, wanting to playfully tease her, but he knew that right now wasn't the time. "I think you've probably gathered from me that I can be… well, controlling?" she substituted. He nodded in agreement, unsure of what she was saying. "A minute ago when you… kissed… me… never mind. This was a bad idea," she dismissed, tearing her hand away from his and looking straight forward again.

"Natasha -"

"No," she said firmly. "We need to get back to the others. Go. Take your shower."

* * *

He had teleported them quickly back to Munich, not seeing any reason to prolong whatever pain she was apparently in. Loki knew very well that he wasn't going to be satiated until he knew exactly what she had been talking about, but he wasn't about to push her. The last time he had done such a thing, she ended up crying in the shower, and that definitely was something that he had no intention of reliving.

Natasha was silent as they approached the quaint hotel the Avengers were staying at, thankfully far away from Schmidt's residence. For a moment, Loki wondered what the fiend thought of his home when he returned to it, finding it in utter shambles. Oh, he wished he had been there.

Casting another glance at Natasha, he knocked lightly on the bedroom door. She was still a little weak on her feet, and though he had offered to help her, she had vehemently refused.

Steve's All American Boyish Charm greeted them as the white door swung wide. The Captain beheld his solemn teammate, no doubt putting Loki in a bad light as he did so. Regardless, he urged the two of them in, closing the door quietly behind them.

"How are you?" he heard Clint immediately ask, rushing up to his teammate and holding her tightly in his arms. "God, you look terrible. Come on, sit down." Natasha made no effort to push him away, letting him drag to the couch and settle next to him. Loki watched with jealous disdain as Barton wrapped a caring arm around her shoulders. She did nothing to pull away.

"Any idea where the bastard is?" Loki started, walking over to the little table, looking through all of the papers. Papers he had already seen. Oh, today was definitely not going as he had hoped.

"Why didn't you take him out when you were there?" Tony remarked, sitting cross-legged on the bed and fiddling with a multicolored cube, twisting and turning the device lazily until each side was dominated by one color. "You could have kicked his red ass to Kingdom Come."

"My priority was getting Natasha out of there. Alive. I had suspected the three of you to do something about the man, to be honest." He sent an accusing glare at Thor, Steve, and Barton. Thor and Steve looked sheepish, Barton's face remaining a set mask of indifference. "I could ask them the same."

"There is no reason to get hostile with one another. Without Loki, we would not have Lady Natasha alive and well," Thor pointed out with a wide smile, always eager to put his younger sibling in a good light with the team. "We should be thanking him."

"Yeah, cause every one of us needs backup after they lose the one thing they were supposed to look after. Makes sense; you're right, Thor," Barton replied, tone far too sarcastic for Loki's care.

"She is not a thing, you mewling arrow thrower," Loki growled. "Would you have rather me gone in there on my own, maybe getting us both killed?" "I'd have nothing wrong with wiping your sorry ass off of my planet," Clint agreed with a shrug. Natasha pulled away from him and rested her head in her hand, staying quiet.

"Or would you just have preferred to sit back on your precious air contraption, without a care in world while the love of your life is possibly being tortured to death?" Loki continued. The room went eerily silent, Natasha's eyes wide with shock that he would say such a thing in front of everyone. The others merely looked surprised in general.

"The Hawk and the Widow… ooh, I bet that's some good sex, right there," Tony remarked, diffusing the tension only slightly. Loki felt his nerves spark in anger at the innuendo.

"Answer the question, Barton," Loki seethed.

Barton remained silent, looking to Natasha for any sort of help. She simply remained quiet, staring imploringly at her long-time partner, pondering his answer. "You know that I would never sit around while she dies," he voiced lowly. "Not that it's any of your business anyway, but -"

"Then why curse me for calling you in?" Loki retorted. "You know very well how I despise you, and yet, I still asked for your assistance. I saved her life, and you meet me with your typical sarcasm and indifference. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but one day, she is going to want a man who actually cares for her wellbeing. A man who isn't you."

"Loki!" Natasha squealed, speaking for the first time since they landed in Munich. "Can we talk outside for a moment?" she asked, standing from her seat. She promptly ignored the others' wandering gazes and left the room, red head held high.

Loki dutifully followed her, feeling adrenaline race through him. She may be upset with his crude words, but he knew that he had no intention of apologizing for them. He meant them, and if that meant that she hated him for it, then so be it.

"What were you thinking?" she demanded in an angry whisper as the door closed behind him. "You can't go around saying things like that!"

"I said what needed saying," he told her calmly, leaning against the wall with an eyebrow raised.

"You said it in front of everyone!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

"Is that what you're upset about?" he asked lightly, surprised. "That I said those things in front of the other precious Avengers?"

"It could have been said in private," she continued.

"You're not asking me to apologize?" he supposed.

Her mouth formed the perfect 'O' shape as she stared at him. If he hadn't been so surprised by her answer, he would have smirked at the flabbergasted look on her face. "Well, you should apologize…" she started. "But I know that you won't, so I'm not about to waste my breath on that."

"Then what are you asking me to do?" he retaliated.

Natasha sank down to the floor in the hallway, running a hand through her red hair. Loki hesitantly followed, watching as she drew her legs closer to herself. "What are we doing?" she asked quietly after a while. Loki didn't respond. "Loki? What are we doing?"

"I think you may need to elaborate on what it is we're doing…" he drawled.

"Well, here you are, once professing to hate me with everything in you, even going so far as to say that you are going to be the one to kill me. Then, it seems that whenever I'm upset, you're the one who ends up cheering me up or calming me down. And then, out of the blue, you show up like a fucking knight in shining armor and save me from Schmidt. And this morning, we kiss, and I just…" she rushed, coming to an abrupt stop. A faint blush colored her cheeks and she focused firmly on her knees.

Loki struggled with the words floating in his mouth, unsure of what it was that he needed, or even wanted to say to her. He exhaled loudly. "What do you want me to say, exactly?" he finally let out.

"The truth would be nice, I suppose," she replied.

"Are you concerned that I love you?" he asked, hearing her inhale sharply at one word in particular. "I can assure you that that is not the case."

"Well… that's… relieving," she breathed, so why on earth was she feeling a little disappointed?

"I suppose that I simply have found a sort of… companionship, if you will, with you. Maybe that's why I find it easy to comfort you, I honestly do not know, Natasha."

"And the kiss?" She finally looked up into those mesmerizing blue eyes.

"It is really that difficult to believe that I find you attractive?" he mused. "Why would you kiss me back then?" he returned.

"I have issues with control," she said slowly and carefully, looking back at her knees, thankful she was sitting, for surely they would be wobbling at the moment. She could not believe that she was about to tell him these things, but… it just felt right. She looked back up to him for a brief moment, seeing confusion decorating his comely face, almost enough to make her smile. "When I was a girl, in the Red Room, there were people there all the time, telling me what to do, threatening me, pushing me. I never had that… affection. It was all about how they could use me for whatever gain they could. For a while, it wasn't important - I didn't know a life where each of my moves wasn't dictated. But, after a while, I just - I wanted my own freedom, you know? I wanted to feel like there was something that I could do that wasn't ordered first. Maybe it's hard for you to understand, being that you were raised as a prince and everything, but, for me, that's all I wanted. So, when I finally got out, I decided that I would be my own person. I wouldn't let others rule over me. Control was vital. It still is. I get… I don't want to say scared, but that's really the only word I can think of, when I don't feel like I'm in control. I need to know everyone's moves, and I feel like I need to control everyone's moves. So, this morning, when you kissed me… I lost control. It's stupid, now that I think about it more, because I've been with guys before who have been rather… dominating when it comes to physicality. But maybe I was okay with it because I was allowing them to be like that - there was still a part of me that was in control. But with you, there wasn't any control. I didn't know what you were going to do, and it scared me because I knew that you could probably do whatever the hell you wanted. Being that you're a god and everything and I am just a human."

Loki stared at her for what seemed like hours, and she could see the wheels turning like pistons in his mind as he processed her words. After another moment, he reached for her hand again, a question in his eyes if she would even take it. Hesitantly, she dropped her palm in his, feeling a wave of serenity wash over her anxious nerves. "I respect your desire to be in control," he said softly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand. "However, I find it to be pointless."

Natasha's green eyes narrowed in a glare at him, and she promptly tore her hand out of his. There she went, pouring her deepest, darkest fear of her soul to him, and that was all that he had to say to her? That her fear was ludicrous and stupid? "Leave," she growled, finding any wish to talk to him any longer completely gone.

"Will you let me finish?" he smarted, a hint of annoyance coloring his tone. She remained silent. "I feel like sometimes, control is a necessity. It's a security that even I can't do without. It helps when things are structured, and it makes me feel as if nothing could go wrong. But, as long as I've been here, every time I find myself in a position of clarity and control, it's never real. The things that I once thought would never go wrong are the first things to fail. I've come to the realization that having ultimate control is a façade. It's not real. To live, I think that maybe there are times when we have to relinquish the control that we have in hopes for something better. Granted, this has never happened for me, but it seems to have benefited practically everyone on your team."

Natasha felt her throat clench and tears sting at her eyes, just like that morning. "Are you saying that I should have just succumbed to whatever it was that you wanted me to do?" she asked, tears scraping painfully at the back of her throat.

"No, I think that this morning, your decision was an intelligent one. For the both of us. I'm simply stating that it is unrealistic to be of the belief that everything can always be within your control," he replied gently, reaching over and taking her hand again.

She stared at their entwined fingers, unsure of what to think. It made sense - what he was saying. Granted, it had been a speech that she had heard before. Clint had spoken with her about her control issues, perhaps not as poignantly as Loki had, but he had. Even Fury had once given her a condensed version when she first joined S.H.I.E.L.D. That he was her boss, and she needed to do the things that he said.

"So, what now then?" she asked reluctantly.

"Natasha, I'm as clueless as you are as to what we need to do here," he answered. "If you wish to remain purely platonic… I won't deny that perhaps I'll be saddened by that fact, but it should be your decision," he conferred.

"What if I make the wrong decision?" she whispered. "I mean, I like you, Loki, more than I should. I think we've established that by now. You get me better than the others, and as selfish as it is, I don't really want to lose that. But at the same time, there's a part of me that…"

"Wants more?" he guessed, seeing her nod on confirmation. "Natasha, I'm confident that whatever choice you make, it will be the right one. For you."

"With everything that's happened, I just don't see how something like this could ever… work. You're a god, and I'm not. You live galaxies away from here, and I'm here. Who's to say that when this is all over, you won't be locked up in a cage for the rest of your life in Asgard while I'm sitting here on Earth waiting for someone who isn't coming?"

"You'll have to forgive me for eavesdropping, but I seem to recall you once saying to Agent Barton that, with the kind of lives that we lead, if we miraculously find any kind of joy along the way, we should try to hold onto it for as long as possible. Thor and his mortal seem to have a working system," Loki added thoughtfully.

"Thor isn't a war criminal," she pointed out.

"Your words still stand though, Natasha," he mentioned. Natasha bit her lip as she thought about that. His words were sincere, and she had even been the one to defend the relationship between Thor and Jane to Clint. It would make her a hypocrite if she didn't stand true to those beliefs that she had proclaimed.

But did she deserve happiness? She was a murderer and cold-hearted. Jane was a scientist with a heart made of gold with sweet, baby-doll eyes. And Thor was the perfect gentleman in every way, wanting the best for everyone. She and Loki were outcasts, misfits even among their peers. They may be trying to save the world now, but that wasn't always their endgame.

With a loud sigh, she felt her head fall against Loki's shoulder, letting old parchment envelop her senses. Though the smell made her head fuzzy, it seemed that her thoughts could never be clearer. Maybe she didn't deserve happiness, but there were many things in her life now that she didn't deserve. She didn't deserve a second chance, yet she got one. She didn't deserve the friends that she had, yet she had them. She didn't deserve to be saved, yet she was. So no, happiness may not have been written in the stars for her, but she was going to take it anyway. Because it was being offered. And she was too selfish to say no.

With this thought in mind, she swiveled her head around, closing her eyes tightly and pressing a firm kiss against his lips. She could tell that he was surprised by the action, but it didn't take long for him to respond to her. He was gentler than he was with his last kiss, allowing her to control the pace, something that she greatly appreciated. She could very much tell that he was restraining himself, but that didn't matter. Her kiss may not have been rough, but there was no doubt of the passion that tumbled in her as she poured herself out to him.

When they finally pulled away, she could feel herself smile, perhaps wider than she had ever smiled before. Opening her green eyes, she saw his smile just as large and delighted. "This doesn't mean I love you," she said clearly, the smile still plastered on her face.

"Oh, of course not," he bantered playfully. "Love is for children, after all."

Natasha chuckled at the joke, standing from the floor and watching as he did the same. "I'm still the only one who gets to kill you, you know," she warned, latching onto his arm with a serious face.

"Still intent on killing me, Agent Romanoff?" he teased.

"Just as intent as you are on killing me," she replied in kind, seeing the familiar blue twinkle in his eyes as he grinned. He reached for the handle of the door, but she quickly stopped him. "Let's, um, keep this between us for the time being."

"Worried what Barton will say?" he supposed.

"I don't want this getting in the way of the mission," she denied, staring imploringly at him. She knew very well that he saw right through her act and knew that Barton truly was the reason, but that didn't matter. He nodded in agreement and opened the door.

Tony's pained yelp caused a moment of confusion, and then they saw the billionaire tightly clutching his nose, blood beginning to trickle of it. "So, as you can see, there is definitely a smudge on this door," he saw in a nasally voice, turning back to the others. Bruce and Thor laughed merrily at the cover-up. Steve merely rolled his eyes and went back to reading the papers still strewn on the table. Clint didn't look affected by the playboy's pain, arms folded and glaring at the wall.

"Were you listening to that, Stark?" Natasha guessed, raising her eyebrow.

"Define listening," he rushed, finding a tissue and dabbing his nose.

"As in, trying to hear our discussion in the hallway," she clarified.

"That would be ridiculous," Tony denied with wide, innocent eyes. "I don't know where you would get off thinking something like that. I mean, I respect peoples' privacy, and I know for sure that I wasn't invited in on that conversation, so -"

"How much did you hear?" Loki interrupted, not looking pleased.

Tony's muddy brown eyes gleamed with excitement though he bit his lip. "I told you I respect peoples' privacy," he answered after a moment, giving them a wink and an obvious 'OK' sign with his fingers. "Your secret."

The two exchanged a worried glance, but when it seemed apparent that Tony wasn't going to say anything to rat them out, they relaxed a little more, walking further into the room.

"Have we formulated any kind of plan?" Natasha started, folding her arms and walking over to Steve's side. Any remnant that she had just been kissing Loki was perfectly hidden.

"Nope. We were waiting for you to kick him out," Clint answered tightly, still glaring at the wall.

"I bet that burns you quite painfully, doesn't it, Barton? Being that I am still here," Loki mocked with a smug grin.

"What do you have to offer that hasn't already been utilized?" Clint rounded on him, standing from the couch and walking over to the 6'2" god. "You found the culprit, great. Something any of us could have done. What more have you done? Found one of his lairs? Oh wait, that was only because you lost her."

"I am not a thing, Clint," Natasha said clearly, restating Loki's earlier claim, coming in between the two men. "This isn't good for the mission, and you know it. These are the cards we've been dealt, so we have to make the best of them. Crying over past offenses isn't going to get us the Cube back, so I suggest that you shut your mouth and accept the situation. Now, are you going to help us get the Cube back, or are you going to sit here and brood? Make your decision quickly, because we aren't equipped with a lot of time." Clint was quiet. "Well?" she demanded. "Are you going to sit this one out or are you going to help?"

"Schmidt didn't have a lot of men in that mountain," Barton said firmly, walking over to the table and grabbing a number of papers. "The three of us weren't ever in over our heads with them. I think at most, Thor was fighting two at a time. Meaning that this isn't one of his strong bases."

"Just a place to keep Ms. Romanoff," Steve agreed with a nod, glad to be back on the subject of the mission. "However, from the war, Schmidt's bases were very spaced out. He had a whole country to situate his plants."

"But technically, he is supposed to be dead, so they're more likely to be condensed in a small area," Tony rattled off.

"But how many people who were alive in the war are alive today to remember what he looked like?" Loki asked curiously. Steve and Natasha cleared their throats awkwardly.

"The man of iron has a clear point," Thor stated. "I would assume that the public would not react well to knowing that there is base creating weapons of mass destruction within a mile of their homes."

"He is pretty conniving," Steve mentioned. "People never really knew what was going on during the war here. Dr. Erskine even said that the first country the Nazis invaded was their own. If Schmidt was doing anything, I would assume that no one would really know about it."

"When we asked him, he said that he was in an environmental business," Loki brought up. "A very wealthy influence in the area, I suppose. Are there any environmental plants in the area that he is said to be in control of?" he glanced over at one of the maps.

Natasha nodded eagerly in agreement. "That probably would be the perfect place to have some undercover agency going on."

"Except the fact that one of his bases was in a mountain," Tony pointed out.

"Nevertheless, it seems to be a good place to start our search," Thor declared with a proud look directed to his younger brother.

"It says here that there's a recycling plant two miles east of here," Bruce said, pointing to a spot on the map. "Owned by one Klaus Kaiser."

"I think that that's as good a place to start as any," Steve agreed. "Although, this time, I think we may need to send in someone else. If they already know the two of you -" He gestured to Natasha and Loki.

"Then obviously, we can't show our faces to them, yes we get it," Natasha said tiredly. "But you still can't either, Cap. Schmidt probably knows that you're alive, and he'll be looking for a way to get to you," she pointed out.

"What about me?" Thor asked.

"I don't know, Thor. This is a serious mission, and -" Clint began.

"But, obviously Schmidt is on the lookout for anyone who looks suspicious to him," Natasha inserted with a shrug. "Maybe what we need right now is a guy who doesn't look like he could harm a fly?"

"But he was seen beating the shit out of all of those Hydra people in the mountain," Clint argued.

"And how many of those people who he fought made it out of there alive?" Loki retorted.

"If it is going to cause discord, I don't want to make anyone feel nervous about this choice," Thor said solemnly.

"No, I really think it's a good idea," Steve encouraged, getting a nod from everyone except Clint. "Just make sure that you don't associate yourself at all with being Thor."

"You can be named… let's see, Tom, was already taken," Tony pondered. "We could call you Jerry? Like Tom and Jerry?" He started laughing at his own joke while everyone else stared at him hopelessly. "I thought it was funny."

"The name isn't what's important right now," Natasha said clearly. "Right now, all that matters is that you are up for the job." Thor smiled happily at her, excited for what was about to come. She could only hope that this branch of the mission would turn out better than the first. Nervously, she cast a glance at Loki who seemed to be reflecting the same thoughts in his own eyes.

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**So… whatdya think? I hope you loved it as much as I did! So for all of those reviewers out there who have been demanding more romance, I hope to hear a review from you! Cause there it is! I hope you all like it. I'm a little worried that I may have gone a little too OOC, but I don't know. It seemed pretty legit as I was writing it, and I could honestly see Nat acting that way to everything. And I could honestly see Loki responding that way. Maybe it's just me; I don't know. Leave a review and let me know!**

**Remember the 100****th**** reviewer challenge! Be the 100****th**** reviewer and get a one-shot dedicated TO YOU! About anything you want. No slash though, and no M rated things. But other than that, go for it! It's pretty fun, and it's a great way to branch out from the main story every once in a while, you know? I wish all of you would able to win it, but alas, only one. Maybe we can get up to 200 reviews someday and then someone else could win? Maybe? Course that part falls up to you all. Just make sure you have an account and you have your PM thing enabled. Makes communicating SO much easier, you know?**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	14. Lady and the Tramp

_**Chapter 14 - Lady and the Tramp**_

**Hey there everyone! I decided that since I still throwing my guts up into the porcelain fortress, and that I had nothing better to do with my illness infested life at the moment, I would go ahead and update for you all. I know, right? Dedication. Just hope my writing doesn't suffer from my being hopped up on painkillers and the like. You guys get to be judge of that. **

**Please, please, please, PLEASE review, guys. Don't you remember when it was like 10 reviews per chapter? Those were the good times. I LOVE the reviewers I have, and I wouldn't trade them for anything (you know who you are, my loyal dearies) but I would LOVE to include you in the bunch. We are so close to that 100 mark, I would just love to see more people reviewing this. I think I've said this before, but I know how many people are reading this…**

**Argh, sorry. I hope that didn't sound demanding. I'm thinking maybe I did a little bit.**

**Remember the reviewing challenge, by the way! 100****th**** reviewer gets a one-shot about anything they want! Doesn't have to have anything to do with this story. If you want the contest details, you can look back at previous AN's. I really don't want to type all of that out again, so…**

**Disclaimer: Ah, screw it, I'm sure you guys get the drill. Me no own.**

* * *

They all stood awkwardly around the table, unsure of where to go from there. They had their plan, but after everything that had happened in their company, they were unsure if it would do. Natasha and Loki seemed the most anxious of the their new plan, though they both locked away their nervousness in front of their peers. Loki remained his sarcastic self, though Natasha exerted the effort to at least plaster a fake smile on her face when asked of her opinion.

They disbanded from the room minutes later, each going to their own rooms, though Natasha and Loki remained in the room, which happened to be Tony's. The billionaire looked at the smugly as soon as the door closed behind the last Avenger, holding his hands up in surrender. "You guys wanna have bat-shit crazy sex, be my guest," he stated, fishing out a little bottle of liquor from the mini refrigerator.

"That conversation was not meant for you to listen to, Stark," Loki said dryly, glaring with ice cold eyes at the smaller man.

"Hey, it's not my fault that you guys are just stupid enough to sit and talk within listening range," he excused with a smile.

"What exactly did you hear?" Natasha asked, folding her arms across her chest defensively. The simple idea that Stark may have heard exactly why she had been upset with Loki kissing her was unthinkable. She had never been that vulnerable with someone before, and she had been very selective about all of it. She was surprisingly alright with Loki knowing her that deeply, but she had never intended to let Stark in on all of her dirty little secrets. Ever.

"Something about why Loki didn't want to apologize to Legolas about what he said," Tony said. "That's it. I promise."

"That's a lie," they both said clearly.

Loki smirked and stalked over to Tony. "Lying to the God of Lies seems a little cliché, doesn't it? That isn't all you heard, and you know it."

"Alright, fine. You don't wanna do a relationship with Reindeer Games because you'd be long-distancing it. I swear that's it," Tony finally answered. "You were talking too quiet the rest of the time for me to catch anything."

"Did you tell the others what was going on?" Natasha demanded.

"Steve wouldn't let me," he pouted.

"Steve may have just saved your life," she told him, making her way to the door.

"Not that it's worth saving," Loki added, following her to the door.

"You tell any of them, Stark; I'll know. And then I swear to God, I'll kick your ass so bad, you'll never wanna have sex again. Understand?" She didn't wait for an answer, walking out of the room with Loki hot on her heels.

"Wait, you forgot your room key!" Stark announced, opening the door and passing them each their own key cards. "Then again, maybe you'll just end up using one. Professional opinion, her room is the nicer one." Stark closed the door, leaving them alone in the hall.

"I suggest we move far away from here if we plan on talking," Loki said in a hushed voice.

She nodded easily in agreement, looking down at the card to see what her room number was. She chuckled without mirth. "It's the room right next to his," she mused. "Nicer one, my ass."

Loki glanced down at his own, finding that it was on the level beneath them. Deciding immediately on his room, they took the stairs and darted to the room.

It was a lot like the other rooms they had been in - simple, yet elegant at the same time. "Oh, look!" Loki announced. "A couch," he teased. "How are we going to divide up sleeping privileges this time, I wonder?" he continued.

"I should probably be sleeping in my room," she said quietly, though instantly, she wished it could be otherwise. For the first time in a long time, last night, she had been clean of nightmares, and though it seemed ridiculously childlike and chick-flick-like, she felt better with him next to her.

He nodded without hesitation, the sparkle in his eyes still very apparent. "You probably should. But are you going to?" She bit her lip, hiding the sudden smile that bloomed on her face.

"The others could find out…" she whined.

"But what's life without a little… mischief?" he remarked playfully, and she allowed the smile to spread on her face.

Happily, she threw herself on the bed, loving the way he came over to the other side and scurried on. She lay on her back and watched as he propped his head up on his crooked arm to look at her. "Are your legs hurting?" he asked genuinely, his fingers reaching out to run up and down her arm, goose bumps rising in its wake which made him smile.

"They're very sore," she replied, looking down at the limbs sadly. She was terrified to remove her jeans and inspect the damage she had given them throughout the day. She knew that she shouldn't have been walking so much, but Natasha Romanoff was not the kind of woman who accepted help from others.

"I was never very good with healing spells, but…"

"No, I'll be fine," she rushed, looking back up into his eyes.

It was strange, she figured. How just a while ago, she had been furious with the mere thought of him. How she had wanted to kick his ass all the way back to Asgard and laugh about it. Then they had talked, and everything changed. They had always been maybe a little more than just friends considering. The amount of times he had reached for her hand and she had taken it, the amount of times that snuggling into him on the mission had seemed just too effortless.

But now that they had finally admitted this to one another, she couldn't deny how scared she was. Relationships, of any kind, let alone kinds that involved gods from distant planets, were things that she had never excelled at. Men, though they always pretended to be the stronger, emotionally hardened, figure in a partnership, secretly had craved love. Men were used to their women praising them and loving on them at every turn. And for a woman like Natasha, who was more emotionally vacant than maybe anyone human on the planet, this would be challenging. She didn't know how to be affectionate or tell men of her pains.

She liked to think that Loki would be different. That maybe he wouldn't really be looking for that stable, perfect relationship like the other men she had met. Maybe instead, he just wanted a friends with benefits kind of deal. Those were somewhat of a specialty for her, and if that's what he was looking for, then she knew that he had come to the right woman.

Then again, she knew very clearly that that was not what he was looking for. Even now, the way he was tracing the veins on her arms, she knew very well that this was more than just a quick fuck when needed kind of deal. He was supposedly drawn to her, just like the other men. He enjoyed her company, and a part of his damaged soul had found some twisted way to care for her. He didn't just need her body in his bed, he needed _her_ too. It scared the living shit out of her that anyone, let alone him, could feel that way about her. But it scared her more that she understood his need. She felt it just as strongly where he was concerned. And being that she was so emotionless and broken, she was just waiting for that moment where she would do something to fuck this up with him.

"I know what you're thinking," he whispered, fingers still on their fruitless route on her arm, "and I want you to stop it."

"So, you read minds now?" she asked, her voice perhaps a little harsher than was necessary.

"You think I can't feel your stress?" he retorted. "It's coming off of you in waves."

"I could be thinking about the mission," she bickered.

"While staring that deeply at my fingers?" he said. "If you are under the impression that I am the master of all relationships and know exactly how they are meant to go in every situation, you're very wrong. I can barely keep anything more than a physical relationship on Asgard, and here I am, trying to connect emotionally with a mortal."

She rolled over onto her side and stared at him. "How many women have you had?" she asked lightly. With someone graced with such handsome features and cunning tongue, she figured very easily that there could be dozens of women waiting for him in his bed. The thought struck a chord with her that she was very unfamiliar with - jealousy.

He chuckled and rested his forehead on hers. "Though I find myself strangely appreciative of this jealousy, I can assure you there is no reason to be this way," he told her.

"Your reluctance to telling me isn't doing anything to help," she grumbled.

"I would imagine that it would be a very similar number to your own number of men," he relayed pessimistically.

Well, that was a very big number, she thought, eyes wide. She couldn't even remember how many she had had grace her bed, and she doubted very much that he would have any firm count in his head either. And he was centuries older than she was! "Then I suppose our jealousy cancels out," she mused.

"Just as long as I won't be forced to witness your reciprocation of any other petty man's feelings, I daresay you'd be right."

At this, Natasha laughed; their noses were now touching. "God vs. Human. What would give me reason to choose one of them over you?" He shrugged, though she could very easily see his relief over her answer. "But what about me? You've got goddesses, and I'm just -"

"They may be classified that way, but I can assure you that they compare very much to lovesick adolescent women of this planet. All in the archaic belief that they are the ones capable of changing me into Asgard's crowned jewel. You are not 'just' anything, Natasha."

"You don't think that I've been secretly on a mission to change you into one of us?" she teased.

"The fact that our relationship all began with you pledging to be the being to induce my death makes me hesitant to believe anything of the sort." He paused, a twinkle appearing in his eye. "I don't want to speak of them anymore."

His lips touched hers very briefly, reminding her of a butterfly kiss. It was… sweet. Once upon a time, she would've hate anything that had anything remotely to do with sweet. But at the moment… oh, she didn't know what to think. She could feel the tenderness that he was trying to show her, and she could feel it absolutely _everywhere_ inside of her. She could feel him relenting his control, allowing her to control the pace. Never would she have ever thought that Loki, an angry, demanding kind of man, would ever allow her to take the wheel from him. Or that he could be gentle.

Deciding that he had earned some sort of reward, she pushed her lips harder against his, feeling him smile against hers. The fingers on her arm stopped their tracing, traveling up into her red hair instead to pull her closer to him. In a matter of seconds, she found herself on top of the god, hands clenching the front of his green t-shirt with tights fists while she plundered his mouth. She could feel him growing underneath her, and she grinned at that too, deciding with reluctance to pull away from him, climbing off of his firm body gracefully. She walked into the bathroom, investigating the damage done. Her lips were incredibly swollen, and her hair was no where near what she would call orderly.

"I really shouldn't stay with you tonight," she mentioned as he followed her into the bathroom. "Obviously we get a little carried away."

"What if I promised to behave?" he remarked, wrapping sturdy arms around her waist and setting his stubbly chin on her shoulder.

"I would call you out on the lie and probably make fun of you for it," she told him easily, giving him an elbow in the gut. "Who ever knew that Loki, King of the Mountain, was cuddly?"

"Does it taint your, what do you call it, 'bad-boy' image of me?" he teased, unaffected by her pushing him away.

"Just surprised that you'd be into the nuzzling and snuggling scene is all," she replied, running her fingers through her hair and trying to make it look presentable.

He reached up and grabbed her wrist, yanking it from her hair and giving her a dark look that forced her to stifle a shiver. "Do you want me to be otherwise?" She rolled her eyes, trying to keep her heart from racing in her chest. Tugging her arm back for herself, she returned to her hair. "I think I like it messy," he commented, reaching up and messing her hair, earning a glare from her, which made him laugh.

"Stop touching my hair, Loki," she growled, looking at all of the fresh tangles he created.

"You certainly weren't complaining a minute ago," he mocked. She remained quiet, and he took advantage of the silence, carefully replacing his arms around her waist. He felt her tense a little, but she made no move to push him away. "Will you really sleep in your room tonight?" he asked quietly.

Natasha sighed and turned around in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck. "I'm beginning to realize that I don't really have a choice in matter, do I?"

"I'm not that much of an ass to make you do something you don't want to do, Natasha," he said harshly, letting go of her. "I'm simply stating that I would like it very much if you would stay here. But if my company is sincerely that repulsive to you -"

"Oh, God, knock it off, Loki," she interrupted. "It's not that I don't want to be here; it's just I don't want to be asked questions later that I have no intention of answering." The pouting look on his face remained, and she gave him a rude shove. "You are so bipolar sometimes; it drives me crazy!" she complained. "Is it really that hard to believe that I would rather be here than there?" she asked him in a softer voice. He stayed quiet. "I mean, the fact that my room is right next to Stark's is enough reason for me to want to sleep in the same room as the fucking devil."

"Oh, thank you," he said snidely, walking out of the bathroom and sitting down on the bed.

Natasha could have hit herself after saying that comment. Everyone still considered Loki to be a real life demon, and saying something like that out loud was definitely not the smartest way to get him to calm down. But she hadn't even meant that.

Hesitantly, she walked over to him and sat behind him, now making it her turn to wrap her arms around his middle and put her head on his shoulder. "I hope you realize how uncomfortable I am doing this." He scoffed. Again, perfect thing to say, Natasha. "I mean, you may be the cuddly type, but I'm not used to doing this sort of thing with someone. I didn't mean what you think I meant. I don't want to be by Stark, that's true. But, I could go shack up with Banner." He tensed. "Or Steve." She saw him clench his fists. "Or your brother." She could feel his pulse racing at this point. "Or even Clint." He let out a low growl flipping her over on the bed so that he was now hovering over her. She grinned in triumph. "But, I want to be with you. Out of all of them, I want to be with you. I'm just reluctant to because I know that Clint will eventually find out, and he'll be asking all of these really probing questions about what is going on between us. And I know that after that happens, whatever this is… it could go away. And I want to hold onto it for as long as I can, Loki. And if that means keeping Clint in the dark, then fine."

His blue eyes, which looked cruel and murderous before softened into sweet pools. He kissed her gently, his weight pressing down on her own and making them sink into the soft mattress. "I see," he said when he pulled away. "I suppose that you could say that I have abandonment issues," he said lightly.

"You and me both," she agreed soundly, leaning up to kiss him again. "But I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

"And I'm obviously Earth-bound for a while," he joked, his nose proceeding to nuzzle her cheek. "It is strange," he mused, rolling off to her side. "With women, I'm never this way. Your surprise in my nurturing affections is just as great as mine. I just… Whenever I see you…"

"I get it," she said with a smile. "Just as long as you don't end up loving me."

A pensive look appeared on his face and he stared at her for a while. "Do you believe in love? Or is that you don't know how to?" he asked.

"Do you?" she rounded.

"Before everything happened in Asgard, I was convinced that my family loved me. I thought surely that I loved them in return. But when I found out that I was not even one of them, I couldn't see how it was possible. Thor seems so set on convincing me of his love. I suppose I would like to believe in it. But I know from experience that it isn't real. It never lasts," he answered solemnly.

"I think for me it's a combination of those things," she told him. "I wasn't raised in a loving environment, so when I finally got out in the world, I didn't even know that a notion like love existed. The families that I killed, I thought that they were simply on the same side and had developed a strong sense of loyalty. Maybe that's what allowed me to do my job. I didn't know that that cared for each other even outside of an assignment. Cared that strongly. For a while, I guess I went through your typical kid phase, where you want love. You crave it because you think that it'll make everything better. That it's supposed to be the greatest healer or something like that. My head got lost in clouds. And when I was brought back down to reality, I realized that I wasn't made for love. I was a murderer and a thief. It was never in my assignments to love someone. To receive love from someone." She paused and grinned shyly at him. "Why is it that whenever we get into these deep, philosophical conversations, I always say something that shouldn't be said? It's a very bad habit of mine."

"You've been doing it since the moment we've met. Course, your first confession was one that I was already aware of," he teased, arching an eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes at him playfully before snuggling further into the bed. "I'll stay," she whispered.

"You don't have to," he mentioned quickly. "I don't want you to be pressed for questions. I shouldn't have been so inconsiderate -"

"What's life without a little mischief?" she retorted. "You're the God of Lies, and I'm a spy. Every rule in the book, I think, becomes irrelevant when it comes to us."

"Oh, you dirty vixen, you," he teased, leaning in for another kiss when the door shook with an angry fist pounding endlessly on it. Both of them turned white, knowing it couldn't be housekeeping - a knock like that was too obnoxious to come from your stereotypical little maid. "Hide," he whispered quickly, getting out the bed and watching as she made quick to slide her lithe body underneath the bed. He ran to the bathroom, splashing some water on his face and flushing the toilet.

He opened the door with a wide smile, unsurprised to see Barton, perched there like the bird of prey that he was. "Where's Nat?" he demanded.

"You think she's here?" Loki guessed innocently. "I just came out of the bathroom; didn't you hear the toilet?" he pointed out.

"A flushed toilet means nothing, Loki. Where is she?" Barton growled, moving to push past Loki and come into the room, though he refused him entrance.

"Now, now, I didn't invite you in," he mocked. "Where are your manners?"

"Let me in, Loki," Barton said, looking over the god's shoulder, as if trying to see her.

"Ask nicely," he retorted.

"May I come in?" Barton tried again.

"No," Loki said with a smirk. "Go away. You don't like my presence, and I don't like yours. I see no reason to pursue a friendship where it is obvious there will never be one."

"I'm not here for you, damn it, I'm here for her," Barton yelled, finally getting around Loki and marching into the room. It was deathly quiet. "I can smell her," he said clearly.

"By Odin, it isn't just your eyes?" Loki mocked sitting down on the couch lazily.

"What was she doing here?" Clint asked.

"If she was even here to begin with, I would have no inkling as to why," Loki answered tersely.

"Is she still here?" Clint demanded.

"If she wasn't here to begin with, I don't know how she could still be here now," Loki mocked, enjoying the floundering archer far too much.

"Natasha!" he yelled, running into the bathroom. Loki heard the shower curtain being throw back, and realized that now was his chance. Loki dashed over to the bed and looked underneath, shocked to find Natasha not there. Where was she? "She's under the bed, isn't she?" Barton demanded, sinking to his knees and looking underneath the piece of furniture. "It smells like vanilla under here."

"Must simply be what the maid uses to clean the room," Loki said tiredly, retreating from the bed and sitting back down on the couch. Faintly, he saw the curtains rustling, and as Loki inconspicuously looked behind the drapes, he noticed the window wide open, the wind tousling the curtains softly. Oh, she was a cunning little escape artist.

"Why was she here?" Barton asked again.

"As I said before, I would have no clue as to why she would be with me if she could be with her darling lover boy," Loki drawled.

"You fucked this up. Y-you bewitched her! You're doing the mind control thing again!" he accused, pointing a shameless finger.

Joking disappeared from his face, and he stood immediately, coming to prowl right in front of the man. "That's what you have to tell yourself, isn't it?" he growled in a low voice. "That there is no way that she could willingly be around a monster like me while you're here. Because you're some saint."

"I'm the one who saved her," Barton said clearly.

"You saved her body," Loki disagreed easily. "Did you save her soul?"

"What's going on in here?" he heard and instantly relaxed. Natasha pranced easily into the room and came to stand in front of them.

"Where were you?" Barton said tiredly, the harshness gone from his tone as he addressed her. And he wanted to accuse Loki of manipulation, the fiend!

"I was in the cafeteria. I haven't eaten in ages," she replied carefully. "What are you doing in Loki's room?" she asked.

"I thought you were here. With him," Barton said. "And I looked in the cafeteria. You weren't there," he disagreed.

"So, you're patrolling the hotel now?"

"After what's happened with you -"

"You know what, stop it!" she yelled, both men falling silent. "It was my own damn fault that something happened to me. Not Loki's. I was being stubborn, and I got what was coming to me."

"It was his job to look after you!"

"It is no one's job to do that, Clint, and you know it. I screwed up. Something that you aren't totally unfamiliar with, is it?" she demanded. Loki watched warily as she swayed a little on her feet. She caught herself on Loki's arm, being very careful to avoid eye contact with him. She released his arm and continued to glare at Clint. "If you are going to blame anyone for this, blame me. And then, if you want to thank anyone for me still being around right now, you can thank Loki."

"What has he done to you?" Barton pleaded.

"I have done nothing, Barton," Loki growled. "If any of us has done anything to her, it would be you. You're a thorn in the team's side, and none of them want you right now. What can you do? Throw your little arrows like a King while the others solve the real problem? Because so far, all I have seen you do is cause discord by getting into this little duels with me and being overbearing on Natasha. Have you done anything whatsoever to find the Tesseract?" Barton was quiet.

Hawkeye sighed and kicked at the floor. "I'll see you later," he finally grumbled, leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.

"Was that last bit really necessary?" Natasha asked in a meek voice.

"I'm done with him tormenting me the way he has. I have pardoned it long enough, and if I never see his miserable, jealous face again, it would be too soon," he said, still glaring at the door.

"Well…" she trailed off. "Okay."

"Seriously?" he asked her, surprised, looking down at her.

"You're too stubborn to be changed. And I'm not up to the task right now," she complained, running a hand through her hair. "But I actually really am hungry. I think it's been since the ballet that I've really eaten anything."

"I wish you would have told me sooner. I don't need food like you do. What would you like?" he asked politely.

"Let's just go down to the cafeteria," she said weakly.

"But you just told Barton that that was where you were," Loki pointed out.

"Clint is going to burrow in his room for a while and pout," she dismissed easily. "We'll be in the clear if you want to go down." Loki nodded and slipped an arm around her waist, walking to the door. "You're worried that Clint, a social recluse by nature, is going to see us in a public setting, yet you are unafraid to have your arm around me?"

"Don't think I didn't notice you swaying around like one of those stupid 'bobble-head' things that Stark has. You're barely standing on your feet right now, and I can tell that you're in pain. You shouldn't have so much weight on your legs. They aren't strong enough yet to do all of the things you want them to do. So, I'm just being a support system, if you will," he excused with ease, though the mischievous twinkle in his eyes told her that it wasn't just for her health that he was holding her like he was.

"Whatever," she droned, secretly very happy tucked away in his arm like she was. She felt safe, a feeling that she never really knew was possible until she got to know him like she had.

They found a table quickly in the crowded cafeteria, families and couples and business people all situated there for their evening meal. "What do you want?" he asked after she sat down. "I think I see some meatballs and noodles over there. I think that's steak. Oh, and over there, there's a salad bar."

"Loki, I can get my own food," she whined, moving to stand, though he quickly pushed her back down into her chair.

"Just tell me what you want," he said again.

"Normally, I would go for the salad bar, but I think I'll have the meatball one. I'm too hungry," she relayed to him, watching as he nodded and headed over to the line, picking up two plates.

"Where'd you find him?" she heard and looked over to see a petite blonde teenager ogling Loki.

Natasha glared at the girl. "Prison. For murder. Of 80 people. That the authorities know of," she rattled off, watching the girl turn pale and look back to her own food.

Loki came back with the two plates of food along with the necessary silverware. He also passed her a glass of water. "Thank you," she said, quickly digging into the spaghetti and meatballs. Granted, it may have been because she hadn't eaten in days, but she seriously could not have found a better meatball anywhere. She moaned in ecstasy as she chewed the piece of heaven, feeling her eyes close.

"I'm beginning to feel jealous," Loki admitted, and she opened her eyes. "Of food. So stop. It's making me uncomfortable."

Natasha merely chuckled and continued eating. Naturally, she finished long before he did and was considering going to get more when he pushed his plate over to her. "I'm not hungry," he excused, leaning back in the chair.

She smiled at the almost full plate of food and took it gleefully. Suddenly, she laughed, and Loki looked curiously at her. "Have you ever seen Lady and the Tramp?" she asked.

"You've known me for my entire trip here on this planet. I think it's safe to say no," he replied. "Why?" he asked.

"I'll just have to make you watch it sometime," she said hurriedly.

"Well, it sounds dreadful. A story of a tramp? Really, what kind of world are you people leaving for your future generations?"

"It's a kids' movie," she said with a smile.

He scoffed. "I will never understand your culture," he mused. "Are you finished?" he asked, seeing the empty plate before her.

She nodded, and he grabbed the plates and set them in the dirty dishes section, coming back to her side and wrapping his arm around her again. She didn't protest; she even sank a little into his arms and her head fall against his chest as they made their way back to his room.

"Was that a date?" she asked after a while as they curled up on his bed.

"I don't know what that is," he said, watching the television.

"It's where two people who find each other attractive and looking for a relationship go out together and enjoy themselves."

"Then I suppose that is what it was," he replied. "Now shush. He's just about to figure it out." _Sherlock _had completely captivated him, and Natasha would be lying if she said she didn't find the show interesting. Loki probably connected with Sherlock Holmes a little too much for comfort, but that didn't take away from the show's seductive lure for him. "Idiot man, what in the hell are you doing?!" he yelled, sitting up further in the bed and screaming at the TV.

"Loki!" she laughed, seeing his wild eyes take in the suspense. "If you can't control your anger, I'm going to change the channel."

"Like hell you will," he barked, reaching over and yanking the remote from her small hands.

"Hey!" she yelped reaching for the remote and glaring at him when he held it out of her reach. Leaping for it, she landed on top of him and heard him let out a grunt in pain. "Serves you right, jackass," she grumbled, still reaching. He shoved her off of him and stood from the bed, holding it high above his head and looking rather childish. "Asshole, that's just playing dirty!" she exclaimed, trying to climb up him.

"I never said I wouldn't!" he laughed back, still holding it high up.

"Give it back!" she pleaded, finally managing to knock it from his hands. Rapidly, she threw herself for it, holding it smugly. "Ha ha!" she tried to yelp, only to have him ram his body into her side, knocking her back onto the bed. Rolling away from him she climbed off the bed, running around manically as he chased her. Running into the bathroom, she slammed the door and locked it, looking down into her hands at her prize.

"That's mine," she heard him say, and she looked up to find him in front of her, staring smugly. "Magic, darling, magic."

"That's cheating," she complained.

"Are we ready to stop being children?" he teased.

"I won't change the channel," she swore, allowing him to lead her from the bathroom and back onto the bed, heart still racing from the fun.

They watched the show in peace, Loki making sure to keep his outbursts to a minimum, and afterwards, she was finally given permission to scan through the channels.

With a sudden laugh, she pointed at the screen. "This is Lady and the Tramp!" she yelled happily. "And it just started five minutes ago!"

"I thought you said this was a children's film?" he complained, noticing that it was animated, a little cocker spaniel running about and talking to a black, frizzy looking dog.

"It is. But, I think you can man up and watch it. You'll get what I was talking about." Picking up his arm, she draped it over her shoulder and settled into his embrace, smiling at the innocence of what they were doing. She had seen the movie a long time ago, practically when it first came out, and while she would have liked to admit that it wasn't important to her, she found that it was. Even a Tramp, a dog with nothing and no one, could find a happily ever after of sorts with the most unsuspected of dogs.

When the dog date came up, Loki chuckled and ran a hand over his face. "Tramp gives her the food, doesn't he?" he supposed and watched smugly as the dirty dog nudged over the last meatball.

After the movie, he looked down to the woman in his arms, seeing her green eyes closed and a small smile on her face. She was asleep. With a smile, he carefully settled her into the bed, draping the blankets over her form after turning her clothes into a suitable nightgown. Making sure that she was facing the door, he climbed back into bed and stretched his body out, staring up at the ceiling.

Hours ago, she had hated him, and now, here she was once more in his bed, sleeping contentedly. It was amazing. Settling further into the bed, he turned and saw her facing away from the door, something that he had never seen her do before. She must have turned over while he was thinking. She didn't even have her gun with her.

It was trust. She trusted him to not let anything happen to her while she slept. And that was something that he didn't dismiss lightly. Without thinking he draped an arm around her waist and pulled her body tightly up against his own, feeling her legs quickly tangle up with his. He felt her sigh in his arms, and for a moment, he was expecting her to wake and say something to him. But she remained quiet.

The vanilla smell of her hair wafted through his nose, making him smile, and without hesitation, he closed his own eyes, letting sleep overtake him.

Then, there was a knock at the door.

* * *

**So, a little cliffy, I guess. Nothing too major… or is it? Muhahahaha Oh well, I guess you all won't find out until later…**

**This chapter was SO much fun to write. I swear, them being all cute and cuddly - I can never get enough of it. But don't worry, you plot people. It's really getting underway. I just thought that since they kinda sorta got together in the last chapter, they needed a calm before the storm sort of situation, you know?**

**Let's get ten reviews this time! 106! I think we can do it! In fact, I know we can. We got 16 once, 10 should be a breeze. And remember that if you are the 100****th**** reviewer you get that special prize that I have been talking non stop about! I will announce the winner in the next chapter; I promise. So excited to deviate from the story a little bit and to see what you guys are thinking about! I hope you've been giving it some thought!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**

**Heh, oh yeah. I don't own Lady and the Tramp or Sherlock. Just thought I would through that out there in case any of you were under the suspicion that I was actually a millionaire. **


	15. Doing the Deed

_**Chapter 15 - Doing the Deed**_

**Hey everybody! Thanks for the wonderful reviews that I got for the last chapter! You guys are all so sweet. :D I swear, sometimes it's like you guys are trying to make me cry tears of joy!**

**Oh! Congratulations to **_liz2413 _**for winning the 100****th**** reviewer contest! A diligent reviewer deserves a reward! Thanks for your undying support, and I cannot wait to see what you were thinking for your one-shot! No worries, everyone else. Maybe we can get to 200 reviews and then you'll have another shot, right? That could work. We shall see.**

**Well, anyways, let's get along with the story!**

**Disclaimer: If I could even begin to persuade you that I owned anything related to this magnificent fandom, other than my own plot, I would consider myself a goddess. However, that is not the case. As I have stated repeatedly.**

* * *

_Then, there was a knock at the door._

Natasha's body sat upright instantaneously, throwing the blanket off of her small form and looking for any cause of the knocking. Her green eyes shone wildly in the darkness of the room, and Loki made quick to grab her wrist and hold her in place. Her breathing was quick and irregular, and she set a hand on her chest as she tried to regain her composure.

"I think I should get it," he said quietly. "Seeing how it is my room and you aren't supposed to be here," he rushed as soon as he saw her begin to protest. She nodded reluctantly and took a seat on the bed once more as Loki stood. He sent her a comforting glance, one that didn't appear to be doing her much good, and stalked over to the door.

Cracking it open hesitantly, he was met with the eyes of his brother, looking nervous and stressed. "Brother," Thor cooed, pushing the door open more, though Loki made sure he wouldn't come inside. "Is Lady Natasha here?" he asked hurriedly.

"No," Loki lied perfectly. "Why would she be?"

"This is not a matter of joking, Loki," Thor reprimanded. "It is of no concern to me if she is, but I need to know. It is important."

"Has something happened?" Loki drawled, still refusing his brother entrance.

"Yes, actually. And I believe that Lady Natasha would very much desire to be a part of the conversation, if you don't mind. Is she present?" Thor demanded once more.

"Yes," Natasha interrupted, coming to stand beside Loki, while he swiveled to glare at her. She had changed out of her nightgown, he noticed with a frown, jeans and a raggedy t-shit taking its place. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Well, I believe that it would be best if you joined the rest of us in Mr. Stark's chambers. He has far more information on the subject than I, and I was merely meant to retrieve you. Upon coming to the Lady's quarters and discovering that she was not there, I thought it best to investigate if she was residing here. But nevertheless, this is not of great importance. There has been a tragedy this night."

Loki and Natasha exchanged a glance, her face hardening into its well rehearsed mask as the mission flooded over her. Loki's face however looked disheartened, knowing that it was unreasonable of him to believe that there had been any way to avoid the Tesseract situation. Was it too much to ask for one moment's peace?

She nodded resolutely and abandoned the room, striding down the hallway and to the stairs.

Loki sighed and wrung his hands as he stared after her. He knew very well how much she would hate it if he were to confer his worry over her, and he was struggling to keep the anxiety away. She was still injured from what had happened, and he was very much hesitant to allow her to dive back into her work. It wasn't safe, and something like this could happen again.

Yet at the same time, he knew very well that it was this Natasha, the stubborn, passionate one, was the one that he had developed this sentiment for. He didn't want her to be normal. But that wouldn't stop him from worrying.

"You are in love with a human," Thor mentioned as they began to make their way to Stark's room.

"I have done no such thing!" Loki cried.

"Then you are falling in love with her," Thor reasoned with a simple shrug.

"I do not understand your logic but -"

"You have always been a talented liar, Brother, but never allow yourself the privilege to think that for once I do not see the way you look at her. I know very well what it is like to find your other half, and that is happening to you now."

"She and I are no representation of your lovesick, cuddly workings of a relationship. Just because your woman is mortal does not mean anything to me. Natasha is not like your woman."

"Or Jane is not like Natasha," Thor continued with a knowing smile.

"That's what I just said, you idiot," Loki scolded, feeling frustrated.

"Your world is revolving around Natasha," he explained smoothly. "As it is meant to be. Therefore, it is only natural to be of the belief that every other woman pales in comparison next to your own. That is how it is meant to be. Likewise, no other woman in this realm, or any other realm, has the capability of comparing to Jane."

Loki merely glared at his brother, not wanting to discuss the topic further. It wasn't that he hadn't endured a relationship of sorts before, but Thor had always been so… romantic. It was a foul word even in his head, but it was true. Thor loved the idea that there was a soul out in the world that was meant for him. So, whenever Loki had the misfortune of falling for the womanly charms of some goddess, it became Thor's official duty to pester the younger god excessively about the wonder of their relationship. He knew that he should have expected this type of reception upon coupling with the redheaded spy, but it left a gross taste in his mouth nonetheless.

As they entered Stark's chambers, Loki thought instantly of moving to Natasha's side, only to have her be suddenly intercepted by Barton. His blue eyes hardened enviously as he watched the archer tenderly take hold of her arm. The way she did nothing to pull away from his touch only stung Loki further, and the god made quick to take a chair on the opposite side of them room, glaring at the innocent walls.

Banner walked in a moment later with Rogers, both of them still looking excessively drowsy from being awoken. Loki could empathize. He had been rather peaceful before this whole ordeal.

"Well, now that we're all here," Tony announced, normally sly grin vacant, and a disappointed frown took its place. "The hotel that Loki and Natasha were staying at has just been bombed," he said tragically and bluntly. The dismissal of their nicknames only amplified the realness of their situation.

"It what?" she asked breathlessly.

"It was bombed," Tony enunciated. "Apparently, Schmidt wasn't cool with you two jumping ship the way you did."

"So, Schmidt is saying he did this?" Steve asked.

"Hell no," Tony disagreed. "It's being called a terrorist attack. He'd be an idiot to say he was involved in that. But that's obviously what has happened."

"How many people were injured?" Thor demanded.

"Everyone in the hotel is dead," Stark sighed. "If you want a body count, it's around 200. There were a lot of people in that place."

"How'd you figure this out?" Banner stared at Tony, looking worried.

"Well, when you're outside and suddenly you see a mushroom cloud and fire erupt out of nowhere… I turned on the news and saw people go on scene. I don't really know what they were saying, just caught that it was a terrorist attack, but I recognized the hotel."

Loki stared at Natasha, watching as her fear of Schmidt settled in. She had always been afraid of the man, and after what she had been through, it was obvious that it was a well founded fear. Hearing his attempt to lash out in his defeat though, she looked terrified. He knew she would disapprove, but he so desperately wanted to wrap an arm around her and comfort her. She didn't deserve to be tormented like this. Schmidt was definitely playing his cards the best way possible, and everyone was slowly beginning to fold, starting with her.

"Were our valuables still there when -" she started.

"No," Banner interrupted. "It's all here. Including the scepter," he added the last bit quietly, though Loki heard it clearly. His head snapped over to the doctor.

"Where?" he demanded. He wanted to make Schmidt hurt, and the scepter was a sure way of doing this. They remained quiet. "Where is it?"

"Loki, we need to wait a moment before we strike out against him," Steve urged.

"Maybe you do," he agreed. "But I am in no way affiliated with the Avengers. This man needs to die. Once and for all, seeing how you weren't able to finish the job the first time around, Rogers."

Steve blushed and looked down at his feet shamefully. "I agree," the Captain whispered. "But we can't just go and -"

"There is no we!" Loki reprimanded.

"Loki," Natasha soothed, leaving Barton's side and coming to stand beside him. He diligently avoided her calming green gaze, feeling her hand fall on his own. His eyes closed at the familiar touch, his fingers entwining with hers on their own accord.

"What do you wish to do?" Loki said in clear, pointed voice.

"I think that we just need to figure out where the Tesseract is, first and foremost," Steve answered. "Having the Cube, he has unlimited power, and his ego is being built off of this. The sooner we take away his source of power, the sooner we can defeat him."

"Meaning what?" Loki growled.

"Meaning that we stick with the plan that we have," Natasha said, crouching down beside Loki. "Thor will go in and snoop. I think we need to be prepared to find another factory where the Cube could possibly be in this case one is a bust. And send in someone there as well."

"Me," Barton clarified, getting a nod from Natasha.

"In the meantime, we need our rest," she continued. "It isn't smart to think that any of us would be able to beat this man without sleep."

"I could," every one of them declared, earning an exasperated sigh from Natasha.

"But she's right anyways," Banner added. "We should rest. Stressing about this right now isn't going to do any of us any good."

Each of them left the room, Barton catching Natasha's arm. She sent an apologetic look towards Loki who merely glared at her and walked away, head held high. She frowned at his retreating form, looking back to Clint with her own glare. "Are you sleeping with him?" Barton demanded.

"Is that really a priority right now, Barton?" she hissed back. "After everything that has happened, you want to ask me about my love life?" "Way to evade a question, Nat," Barton said smugly.

"No, I'm not sleeping with him," she retorted.

"But you care about him?"

"He was my partner and he happened to save my life! Of course I care about him!"

"Yeah, and I didn't help with your rescue mission at all," he drawled sarcastically.

"What do you want from me, Clint? To thank you for risking your life for me? Well, thank you!"

"You know that's not everything," he bit back at her.

"Then what? You want me to say that there is something more between Loki and I? Would that make you happy?" He fell silent. "Because yes, there is something there. And it pisses me off that my best friend can't be happy for me for once! How often have I had the genuine chance to be happy? So now that something has finally happened for me, you hate me for it!"

"He poisoned my mind, Natasha!" he snapped.

"So I need to forget about him saving me and caring about me just because of something he did to you?" she guessed.

"Yes! Because that's what friends do!"

Natasha sighed. "I have to believe that he can be saved, Clint. He has done good. And yeah, he's done bad, but we all have! You've forgiven me for the things that I've done in my past, and I'm asking you to do it again. Everyone else has accepted him."

"Are you in love with him?" he asked roughly.

Her breath caught tightly in her throat, and she looked worriedly at him. "That's for children," she croaked painfully.

"And that's what you're being right now. Stubborn and childish."

She swallowed the sharp saliva in her mouth. "Why are you doing this? You've told me that I deserve happiness before. And now that I've finally decided to take your advice for something, you tear me right back down again."

"It's not that, Tasha," he said tiredly. "I just don't see why it has to be with him…"

"You want my happiness to be with you," she assumed, earning a silence. "I'm not allowed to be happy with anyone else but you." Silence. "I'm going to bed." Turning on her heel, she made her way to the stairway, tears stinging her eyes.

"Your room is right here!" she heard Clint call out to her.

She ignored him, hobbling down the stairs and disregarding the pain that flared in her sore legs. Loudly, she knocked on Loki's door. She waited a moment, hearing nothing on the other side, and the door remained closed to her. "Loki, open the damn door," she demanded, banging on the wood again. "I know you're in there."

The door finally swung open, Loki's tall frame in a defensive stance as he beheld her. "What are you doing here?" he asked gruffly.

"Don't do that," she begged, pushing him aside and walking into the room, collapsing on the bed.

"Forgive me for being unable to keep up with your tastes in men," he said snidely, closing the door and coming to stand at the foot of the bed. "Just a moment ago, you seemed quite content to be with Barton. And here you are now, wanting to be with me."

"I was arguing with him, Loki," she relayed.

"About what, I wonder?" he remarked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't need this," she told him, standing from the bed. "If you don't want me here, just say so. Because I sure as hell don't want to be around you when you're being a jealous baby. I came here because I wanted to be with you. Not with Barton, with you."

Loki ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. "It's not that I don't want you here, Natasha. I just… I think that maybe you should… go."

Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked furiously, marching over to the door and grabbing the handle tightly. "We were just fine twenty minutes ago," she mentioned.

"I know," she heard him say.

She twisted the door knob, cracking the door, and then paused. If she couldn't allow Loki to have control over her emotions, she surely wasn't about to let Clint have any power over her that way either. If she wanted to be with Loki because he made her happy, she was going to be with Loki. There wasn't any reason why she should be feeling bad. Clint was not a factor in this relationship, and she wasn't about to make him a factor now. "No," she declared strongly, slamming the door and turning around to face him. "No, I'm not going anywhere. You want to know what I talked about with Clint? He figured out that there was something going on between the two of us. And I put myself on the line, and I told him that there was. If I want to be happy, then I'm going to be happy, and nothing is going to get in my way. Not even Clint. Not even you. So you can just suck it up, you big baby, because I'm staying here tonight, and so are you."

Loki stared dumbfounded at her for a moment, and she suddenly worried that he was going to reach out and slap her. The words had tumbled out of her mouth, and at that moment, she almost wished that she could take them back.

Then his lips were on hers and she forgot about her anger and worry, allowing him to massage away the unwanted emotions. She locked her arms around his neck, feeling his wrap around her middle, lifting her off of the ground, never breaking the kiss. Her legs threw themselves around his waist, and her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

Her back fell onto the bed, and he pulled away for a moment, looking deeply at her, question poignant in his ice blue eyes. Without needing a second to think, she gave him a stout nod, feeling his lips fall back onto her own. She was giving him control; she was trusting him with her body, with her soul. On paper, it sounded like the dumbest idea, but at that moment, everything inside of her screaming "Yes!" it couldn't have been a better idea. She wouldn't regret it. She didn't know how she knew - she just did.

* * *

Gaining control over her breathing was proving to be a daunting task for Natasha. Granted, this could very well be because of a certain god who was continuously peppering her lips with fierce, passionate kisses, but nevertheless. Finally needing to pull away for air, she panted, drawing the blankets up over her breasts and staring at the ceiling with wonder.

She just had sex… with Loki. Mind-blowing, amazing, insane sex with the God of Mischief. At least he had been properly named, she thought with a blush as she thought of all of the things he had done. Natasha giggled breathlessly, the sound so foreign to her ears, that she wasn't surprised when she saw Loki give her a concerned look.

"We just had sex," she stated, her palm grasping her forehead in amazement.

"Yes… we did, didn't we?" he asked with a smile, grabbing her hand and entwining their fingers.

"On a mission, we had sex. After 200 plus people were burned alive, we had sex."

"Well, if that doesn't kill the mood," he mocked.

"We are terrible people," she mentioned.

"We've never claimed to be good people though," he reminded her with a cheeky grin. His face suddenly became rather pensive as he stared at her. "Do you regret it?" he asked softly, looking at the pale soft skin of her shoulder.

"I think we could have timed it better," she answered truthfully. "But I don't regret it. It would have happened eventually. One of the perks of being in a relationship, I guess."

He smiled happily before pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "We should sleep," he whispered gently.

Earning a nod, she rotated in the bed, her back pressing against his chest while his arm draped over her stomach, their fingers still entwined. Tenderly, he kissed her shoulder again, feeling her sigh and snuggle more into his embrace.

* * *

The scent of old parchment gently greeted her upon awakening, and the smell made her sigh in comfort. Looking down, she beheld his pale forearm wrapped protectively around her small middle, his palm covering her hand. Warm, morning breath glided over her bare shoulder, making her smile.

It wasn't very often when she awoke with a man. Most of the time, she was forced to leave her bed duties minutes after the deed. She could never allow someone to believe that they had any chance with the likes of her. She wasn't meant for relationships like the ones they would be looking for. Natasha wasn't even sure of the relationship that she had with Loki, but she was sure of the happiness she had when with him. And that was enough for her.

Playfully, she elbowed him in the gut, hearing him grunt. "Wake up," she urged. Most couples, she figured probably had a sweet, tender way of waking up their partners - this she knew - but she and Loki weren't most couples.

"Good morning to you too," he groaned sleepily, tightening his hold around her middle.

"We should get up. Your brother is probably going to be leaving soon." She glanced at the clock on the bedside table, seeing that it was eight in the morning.

"But we were up so late last night," he whined.

"Yes, but that reasoning probably isn't wise to be trumpeting around," she scolded, trying to shove his arm off of her, but to no avail. "Loki, let go of me."

"No," he said bluntly.

"Let go, or I'm going to hurt you," she threatened.

He moaned and released his hold, turning over in the bed to face away from her. "I always seem to forget how much of a bitch you can be in the mornings."

"Or maybe you're the bitch," she teased, standing from the bed. She pranced over to the other side of the bed, leaning over and kissing him briefly on the lips. "I'll make a deal with you?" she bribed, seeing a blue eye crack open in curiosity. "We could take a shower?"

He groaned once more before finally throwing the blankets off of himself. "I hate you," he grumbled, standing and walking into the bathroom, water turning on a moment later.

Chuckling to herself, she followed him inside.

* * *

After their rather… intimate… shower, Loki seemed to be in a much better mood. They walked to Stark's room with exuberant smiles on their faces.

However, as soon as the door opened, their smiles were wiped clean from their faces as reality set back in again. Walking in, they noticed that everyone was there besides Barton.

Thor seemed anxious, pacing around the room and fidgeting in his clean cut suit. He repeatedly traced the cufflinks and the tie, tightening it to a point where he looked like he was strangling himself. "What if I fail?" he droned worriedly. "The mission is too important for me to fail."

"You're going to do fine," Banner soothed, patting his back.

"You need to stop worrying like this," Tony said. "You'll blow your cover the minute you walk in if you're acting this way."

"Maybe someone should go with him?" Steve suggested.

Everyone cast a glance at Loki, the younger god viciously shaking his head no. "Absolutely not."

"But you can shape-shift, Loki!" Thor pointed out. "No one would even know that it is you!"

"I am not going with you. Natasha is still weak, and -"

"Oh, don't go dragging me into your excuses," she interrupted.

"I'm not leaving your side," he dictated through clenched teeth. "I did that once, and you were nearly killed. I'm not about to make that mistake twice."

"I'd be with everyone here though," she said.

"You're not getting me to change my mind, so you might as well give up on the effort now," Loki relayed defiantly, glaring at Natasha, who returned the glare fully.

A knock at the door interrupted the glaring contest, and Tony eagerly leapt up from his seat and went to the door. Clint barged in a second later, sending his own furious glance at the Russian before walking to the other side of the room.

"There is too much tension in this room," Tony stated obviously. "I don't know who to make fun of, so stop putting me in this situation!"

Banner chuckled mirthlessly.

"What's the problem?" Barton asked, looking to the nervous looking Thor.

"Thor wants a backup partner," Steve explained.

"Send in Loki," Barton resolved.

"No!" everyone yelled.

"I'm not leaving," Loki repeated, folding his arms defensively as he stared at the archer.

"Legolas! You go!" Tony exclaimed. "You've got the spy badass thing down, and Thor knows what he's looking for. It's the perfect combination!"

"I agree," Steve piped in with a blush when Clint glared at him.

"Yes, I believe that that would expedite things much faster," Thor claimed.

"I would prefer to stay here," Clint said uneasily.

"Your first chance to prove your worth to this team, Birdman, and you turn it down? How typical," Loki mocked with a raised eyebrow.

Barton glared evilly at the god, receiving very little response. Finally he sighed and looked at Thor. "Let's go. I wanna be in and out of there. I just gotta change first."

Thor's face brightened considerably, and the two left the hotel room. The tension dissipated almost instantly as the door closed.

"Well, let me just start off by saying that someone had some pretty good sex last night," Tony mentioned, earning shocked looks from everyone. Steve blushed and looked down into his lap. Natasha and Loki glared at the billionaire, who pretended to be ashamed. "Did I just say that out loud? Oops."

"You two?" Banner guessed, waving his finger in between Loki and Natasha. They cast glances at one another, remaining silent. Banner shrugged and walked over to the computer. "It's fitting, I think. If you guys want my opinion."

"I agree," Steve said quietly. "I think I'm going to call Maria with the update," he added, walking out of the room.

"We told you to keep your mouth shut!" Natasha yelled.

"Yeah, and Banner agrees with me in saying that you're good together. Banner can keep a secret, can't you, Big Guy?"

"My lips are sealed," Banner told them mechanically, staring at the computer screen.

Natasha and Loki shared another glance, Loki shrugging in defeat and walking over to turn the television on, sprawling out on the Stark's bed. "Asking Stark to keep a secret I'm sure is very similar to asking for him to, what's the saying? 'Keep it in his pants?'"

"Ooh, that was a good one, Loki," Banner praised with a laugh, and even Natasha couldn't stop the smile from breaking out on her face.

"I didn't like it," Stark pouted while everyone else rolled their eyes.

* * *

"You still dislike my brother a lot, don't you?" Thor supposed as they climbed into the S.H.I.E.L.D vehicle outside of the hotel. Barton remained quiet. "I figured as much," he complained. "I do not wish to see my brother treated this way, and though I can understand where your anger with him stems from, it is no reason to continue pursing these harsh feelings towards him. He is fighting for us, and I think that he deserves a chance at redemption. All his life, he has been unjustly compared to me, and I know that that has been what has caused him to do all of these treacherous deeds. But know that he is not a gruesome person at heart. He was first and foremost my brother, and a good man."

"That's all great and dandy and everything, but he and I are never going to be friends, and you just need to accept that and move on," Barton barked to him.

"Is this because of the relationship that he has with Lady Natasha?" Thor asked curiously. "I have been under the impression that you care greatly for her. As she does for you."

"I'm not going to discuss this with you, Thor," Barton said harshly, looking out the window.

"I'm not asking you to speak with me. But I am asking you to listen to me. Loki has gone through many hardships in his life, and I have come to understand that Lady Natasha's past haunts her just as Loki's does. Therefore, if there is an opportunity for my brother to experience any kind of happiness, you must understand that I will support it. And, as his older brother, I believe that it is also my duty to say that if you threaten his happiness in any way, you may not be pleased with the end result."

"You're threatening me?" Barton rounded, staring horrorstruck at the god beside him.

"I wouldn't call it a threat," Thor said calmly. "Unless you plan on doing something that would make my statement relevant. They are happy together. And I think that if you truly cared about the wellbeing of your partner, you would clearly see her happiness with my brother. And I think you would respect that," Thor finished with a wide smile. He glanced out the window, a tall, grey building standing outside of it. "Oh, look! We're here!" Thor clambered out of the SUV, straightening out the garments he was wearing before looking back at Barton. "Come along," he urged.

Barton was whipped out of his stupor and exited the vehicle, coming to stand beside Thor. Putting on a pair of dark sunglasses, they walked into the building, finding a small, brunette receptionist on the phone behind a desk. She held up a finger and pointed to the many chairs in the lobby. Thor smiled gratefully and took a seat while Barton remained standing at the desk, waiting impatiently.

When she finally hung up, she stared invasively at Barton while Thor remained in his seat. "Do you have an appointment?" she asked in German.

"Is Mr. Kaiser available?" Barton returned in German.

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked once more.

"We're with the local paper," Barton excused. "We are doing an article on Mr. Kaiser's charity work and were hoping to get a statement from the man himself."

"Has he agreed to this statement?"

Barton sighed and took the glasses off, leaning on the counter presumptuously. "I know you probably hear this all the time, but my God, you're pretty."

The woman blushed bashfully, and waved her hand. "That's not going to work on me," she said.

"I wasn't intending for it to. I was just making an honest to God comment. It's so rare to find a woman who is genuinely beautiful these days."

"Well… I get it all from my mother's side."

"I'm sure that she's just completely jealous of you. You're probably prettier than she is. Cause I could not honestly see someone being prettier than you."

The woman blushed further and giggled. "You're sweet."

"I'm truthful, Ma'am," Barton said dutifully. "Well, if we can't speak with Mr. Kaiser, would it be at all possible to get a tour of the factory? I hear that it's just a wonder to experience."

"I'm not allowed to do that for people who don't have a pass," she said tragically. "But, I think that I could let it slide just once, if you're interested. Maybe we can go for coffee after my shift today?"

"I think that is a wonderful idea," Barton said. "Let me just tell my buddy over there what the game plan is, alright?" She nodded ecstatically and stood from her seat, fixing her floral patterned dress. Barton walked over to Thor, cheery smile disappearing from his face. "We can't talk to Kaiser," he said, speaking in English again. "But that woman over there is going to give us a tour of the factory. Stay quiet at all costs and bump my elbow nonchalantly if you find where it is." Barton drug out a pad of paper. "Here, take notes on this. Make sure you write illegibly in case she peeks at it. Write down everything that we see. I'll keep her distracted so that you can focus more on what's going on."

Thor nodded and took the pad of paper, finding a pen on the table beside him. "Got it," he confirmed, looking determined and not at all like the golden boy of Asgard that he was.

Barton sent one last nod to his partner before turning around and facing the woman. He smile widely at her and approached, wrapping an arm tenderly around her shoulders. "Lead the way," he said with a grand gesture.

* * *

**Well, there it is! Eeep! Loki and Nat finally did the deed! I hope that that didn't seem too out of place for anyone. I really didn't plan on them having sex this chapter; it just sorta happened. And I guess it makes sense. They're both pretty passionate people. Had to happen at some point, right?**

**And what will Thor and Barton find on their mission? That's exciting. I hope that I live up to everyone's expectations! Have gotten a lot of reviews about that whole escapade, and I really hope that everyone likes it!**

**Again, congrats are in order for **_liz2413! _**Leave a me a review this time around, or a PM, tell me what you want in your one-shot, and I will do my best to get it posted for you ASAP! So excited to hear what you have to say!**

**Thanks for the wonderful reviews as usual! Let's get to 116, guys!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	16. 50 50

_**Chapter 16 - 50/50**_

**Hey guys, sorry this took a little while to upload. I had company over yesterday, and school has been a big pain in the butt, so I haven't had much time for myself lately.**

**Thanks to the FOUR of you who reviewed. I know I've said the same thing before, but… review? Please? They even put the little box down here so you don't have to click any additional buttons! It really means a lot to the writer, and don't get me wrong, I love getting the emails saying that I have new followers and favorites and stuff. Those make me day as well. But it'd be nice to hear from you guys. :D**

**Speaking of reviews and such, I was thinking - maybe instead of waiting till the 200****th**** reviewer time, we could do the one-shot contest thing at 150? I don't know, I think it's a good idea. I like writing the little one-shots, and I love being able to indulge a faithful reader, you know? And it's a lot of fun to deviate from the main story every now and then, right? SPEAKING OF WHICH! I have uploaded the one-shot from the 100****th**** reviewer contest thingy in case any of you wish to read it. It is called **_"Smile" _**and no worries, it is a BlackFrost fic, so don't worry about any conflicting romantic pairings. Had a whole bunch of fun writing it - I actually almost started crying! So, go check it out, let me know what you think. Maybe you'll be the one to get the next one-shot, yeah? But of course, that just means that you guys need to review more in order to get to that 150 faster! Hehe**

**Anyways, I'm sure you don't want to hear me yapping. Back to the story.**

**Disclaimer: I have finally reached the acceptance stage in realizing that I will never own Marvel. Or maybe I'm still stuck in depression… *sobs uncontrollably***

* * *

Natasha stared fretfully at the wall of her room, fighting to keep her strong composure. True, there wasn't anyone around to see her in her distressed state, but she fought for that mask. It was a way to prove to herself that everything would be alright. If she lost confidence, then everything would be lost with it.

Loki had offered to be with her and to help calm her stressed nerves, but she had denied him, only giving him a tiny peck on the cheek and retreating into her room.

She shouldn't be worried. This was Clint. He was the best agent she had ever known, and he wasn't one to blow his cover in the heat of a mission. And no one had any reason to suspect Thor, a giant teddy bear when he would smile, regardless of the intimidating muscles.

But if Schmidt had known who she was, then who was to say that he wasn't aware of Clint's background and presence in the mission? She was the best agent there was, most likely in the entire world. And her cover had been blown, and she had almost died because of it. The fact that Clint could take care of himself didn't matter. Because it hadn't mattered when it came to her.

A flash of Nicole's face flashed in her mind, and she couldn't control the grimace that followed. Her hands involuntarily clenched into tight fists as she thought of the young German. Blonde and sweet - not your typical spy. She had a cunning factor to her, and she even had the ability to hide all of her conniving thoughts under a pile of innocence and naivety, the bitch.

She could just visualize that needle, long and threatening as it jabbed a hole into her pale and sweaty skin. Natasha reached up to the back of her neck, stroking the several holes her fingers encountered. It was the one part of her that had yet to heal from that experience. Her legs were still a little sore, she supposed, but it was manageable. These puncture wounds would mark her for the rest of her life. They would close, yes, but she was confident that they would leave little scars.

Burying her face in her hands, Natasha inhaled deeply, closing her green eyes and allowing her muscles to relax. Her wounds, miniscule and unimportant wounds, were not the epicenter of the problem currently. Her best friend, and her boyfriend's brother were out in the heart of all of the danger, toying and courting with Death. She knew that it had to be done - it was what the mission required in order to obtain success. Sacrifices were necessary occasionally, and she would be a fool to think that everyone she had ever cared about would survive whatever was to come. She just couldn't deny the worry that was coursing through her at the thought that something could happen to either Thor or Clint.

The feud with Clint was becoming somewhat of a nuisance, yes, but the fact remained that he was the man who had saved her. He was the man who had been there for her without fail at every turn. She owed her entire existence to him - he had saved her more than just once. He had become a brother to her in their partnership, and though he hadn't seen their partnership that way, that didn't matter to her. She couldn't imagine a world without her best friend in it. No matter how angry she would get with him sometimes.

Thor was another matter entirely. She had recognized his worth on the team, and she had come to see him as a loyal ally. Yet she knew very well that if he were to perish in this war, she wouldn't be overly devastated by the departure. It wasn't in her to be attached to a great number of people - it only meant that there were more pieces of herself to lose when they left.

But he was Loki's brother. The man that she was currently having a raging affair with could possibly lose his brother in this. Though Loki had vehemently denied any affection towards his older sibling, Natasha knew just as well as he did that deep down, Thor was still an important figure in his life. He looked up to his brother, and while playing a much more cool, calm card around all of them, she knew that Loki had a staunch desire to be more like his brother. Thor was good and pure and had the best of intentions and the love of everyone he met. Whereas he was rejected by those who he had once loved. Thor was the only Asgardian who still had any faith in Loki's capability for good. And without his brother, Natasha knew that Loki would lose any sense of kinship with the remainder of his family.

What could he be feeling now? Was he just as frightened and disturbed about the whole ordeal like she was? Or was he reveling somewhere in the hotel, waiting to hear of the death of, maybe not Thor, but definitely Barton.

Sighing, she stood from her bed, seeing the sheets only slightly rumpled. Gathering her suitcases, still stuffed with all of her belongings, she quitted the room, taking the elevator downstairs. She approached Loki's room with slight trepidation, pondering the idea of knocking on the white door. Natasha was well aware that Loki still cared for her - after everything they had been through together, it was impossible to think otherwise. But did that mean that he was still willing to continue their relationship? He had gotten his prize the night before. Maybe that had been all that he had ever desired from her.

Mustering her courage, she tapped gently on the door - one, two, three. She heard the television's volume quiet. Rolling her eyes, she rapped her knuckles on the door once more. Nothing. "I know you're in there!" she yelled, pounding on the door now.

Finally the door swung open, a rather distraught looking man who represented what appeared to be an anti-Loki on the other side. Though she couldn't see tears on his angular face, it had been clear that he had been mulling things over much like she had. "I thought you wanted to remain solitary at the moment," he commented, looking at the doorjamb.

"I decided that it's probably pointless to try hiding our… relationship from everyone anymore. And after everything that has happened…" She blushed, unable to believe the words that were about to come out of her mouth, "I don't really want to be alone."

"You can't be with the others?" he asked, casting a curious glance at her that made her frown.

"Do you want me to be with the others? Cause I thought you'd actually be pretty excited with the thought of us being roommates again," she said calmly, pushing him aside and walking into the room, divesting her luggage in a lonely corner.

"I'm afraid I'm not very swell company at present, Natasha," he said sorrowfully, returning to his spot on the bed, fiddling with the remote.

"And you're assuming that I am? That's why I came here," she told him simply, coming to sit next to him on the bed. "Because even when we both are hating the world, we always seem to keep each other company. Steve's a little awkward with women, and Stark's a little friendly with women. And Banner… I guess I'm just saying that we're the best for each other right now." Carefully she held her hand out to him, feeling a blush taint her cheeks. His fingers easily moved to clasp her own, thumb idly tracing circles on the back of her palm.

"You're worried about Barton," he stated, not a hint of question in his accented voice.

"You're worried about Thor," she retorted with a smile, settling her head onto his shoulder.

"He's my brother; I have a right to be worried," he reminded her.

"Not according to past statements," she teased softly. "I seem to recall you saying quite strongly that you and he are nothing alike."

"Just because we different doesn't mean we don't hold one another in a sort of value. Yes, I deeply regret the idea that I am concerned for Thor's safety, but the fact remains. I've known him all my life, and while I make play that I desire him exterminated, I honestly cannot see a realm without him," he relayed quietly, his voice getting deeper as the emotions tangled into the words. "Do you think me pathetic?" he wondered, leaning his head on hers.

"No," she answered easily. "The bond that the two of you have is not something that can be expected to go away that easily. Just like how I feel about Barton at the moment," she explained. "I know you may not see it like I do, but I truly consider Barton nothing but a brother to me. And though I'm much older than he is technically, I look up to him quite a lot. He's been with S.H.I.E.L.D longer than me and he's the example that I've had on how to be a good agent."

"He loves you," Loki told her vindictively, his head pulling away from hers and his fingers tightening around her palm.

"As you've told me before," she said calmly. "But I think you've noticed that I don't love him. Not that way at least." He looked ready to pounce on her wording, blue eyes wide and appalled. Grinning cheekily, she leaned up and pressed a kiss on his lips, silencing the onslaught. "I cannot love Barton that way, Loki," she murmured. "I see him only as a brother. Nothing more."

"If he saw you as nothing but a sister, I would think myself satisfied," he admitted.

"But my sole attraction to you will have to suffice, now won't it?" she teased, kissing him again.

"Kissing me isn't going to silence me, Natasha," he chastised.

Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair and settled more into the bed, stealing the remote from his hand. "I know. You hate Barton."

"Hate is a very strong word," he mentioned, looking carefully at her.

"Then tell me you don't hate him," she retorted.

Loki paused, pursing his lips as he stared at the carpet, begging for an answer. "Without the kindness and compassion that Barton exemplified when you first met, you would be dead. I suppose this action and his deeds whilst under my control prevent me from truly despising the man. However, I believe that I am most likely on that path of slowly losing my patience with him."

"I won't cut him out of my life, Loki," she told him clearly, narrowing her green eyes at him, as if asking him to challenge her on her demand.

Loki merely shook his head. "That's not what I'm asking of you, Natasha."

She folded her arms tightly across her chest, arching a perfect eyebrow in question at him. "Then what are you asking of me?" she demanded.

He smiled softly at her. "Not much. Currently, I believe I am simply asking if we could stop talking about the infernal man and speak of other things."

"You mean sex?" she queered, surprised to see his face tint ever so slightly a light pink.

"You forget that I was raised as a prince, love. I do know of such a thing as manners."

"Yeah, you say you know of them but that doesn't mean that you _have_ them," she retorted easily. "And don't call me that," she added.

"'Love?'" he teased, blue eyes sparkling. "I'll take that as an invitation, I think." After a severe moment of glaring from her, he stole back the remote, turning the television volume back up. "In all reality, I was hoping just to spend a little peaceful time with the television. To keep my mind off of things with Thor. And unlike you, apparently, I don't need constant sexual interaction to keep my interest levels up."

"Is that a polite way to say that I wasn't any good for you?" she remarked, eyes widening. Every man she had ever been with had been very… responsive to her methods and had enjoyed her attentions very much. But Loki was a god after all, and maybe a mortal component wasn't exactly what he had been looking for, and he didn't like it.

"I can assure you that that could never be the case, Natasha," he told her calmly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close to him. "Last night was the best night in my entire life, as cliché as it sounds. And that is no lie. You're quite the acrobat." He stared at her deeply, seeing the corner of her lip twitch as she tried to hide a smile.

Gods, she was beautiful. He reached up tenderly, fiddling with the red curls and watching with fascination as they sprung back with a bounce. Her eyes shone with a bright twinkle as she watched him play with her hair. At the moment, he was so torn on whether he wanted to take her up on her gracious offer, or whether he simply wanted to continue staring at her. The sudden compulsion to tell her about the emotions running through him stopped him from doing either however. Looking back to the television, he flipped through the channels until he found a crime show.

Sentiment. He knew that this hadn't been the first time that the word had applied to what he and Natasha had. Respect had gone to hate. Hate had come to interest and curiosity. Those had morphed into concern. Then care. Happiness. Now though, it was another emotion entirely. And he was familiar with how she felt about it and how she would react upon hearing such a confession. He didn't even want to admit to himself that he was falling for her. But that was exactly what he was doing. If he had any idea on how to make it stop, he would do it. Falling for a spider, for a wisp, was never wise. She was manipulative and cunning, and there were endless possibilities on what she would or could do to him - god or not. And, if by some unbelievable miracle that she reciprocated anything, it was unlikely that the emotion would stick. She allowed the wind to take her where it wanted, and he could easily be forgotten, or purposefully be locked away in the recesses of her mind.

As soon as the Tesseract fell back into their possession, he would leave Midgard, perhaps for forever. He would never see her again. Falling for her would only mean then that his heart would be left here to her devices. He knew he was cold and uncouth, but he definitely wasn't heartless.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked curiously, making him swallow uncomfortably.

"Nothing," he lied. "Television. Just absorbed is all," he excused.

"What's the main character's name?" she retorted.

"Have they said?"

"Only around six times," she replied, reaching up and grasping his chin, forcing him to look at her. Confusion written across every plane of her face, she repeated, "What are you thinking about?"

Loki frowned, pushing her hand away. "You don't need to know all of my thoughts all of the time," he grumbled.

"I just know one minute, you were having a cute cuddly moment, then you got a disgusted look on your face and looked away. Forgive me for trying to figure out what's the matter."

"You're very invasive," he chastised, feeling his temper begin to itch further at him.

"And you're very evasive," she remarked.

"Can't we just watch television?" he pleaded, gesturing to the device again.

"If you're actually going to watch, then yes. But as long as you've got a sour look on your face, then I think we need to talk about it."

Loki growled, escaping from her side and moving over to the couch. "Just because you're a spy doesn't mean that you have to decipher everything that I ever think about, Natasha. I have permitted you ambiguity in our partnership many a time, and I had expected that the favor would have been returned. Yet here you are, demanding the knowledge of all inner-workings of my mind, as if I am simply a mission or a chore that needs translating. If I wish to speak with you about a certain topic, I can assure you that I will make good on that impulse. But if I wish to keep my thoughts to myself, I would hope that you would respect my privacy for once." Natasha stared at him, surprised for a moment as he finished his rant. Quite suddenly, she folded her arms across her chest and stared at the TV, a harsh scowl falling on her face. "Ah, so we're back to the avoiding thing, are we? Just like we were after our first kiss? And once more, it's my fault. Are you going to go cry in the shower now?"

"You're a bastard," she muttered.

Loki chuckled without mirth, running a hand through his hair. "Tell me something I don't know."

"When you decide to stop acting like a stuck-up, arrogant jackass, let me know. I think I'll be with Steve, Your Asshole-ness." She stood from the bed and trumped to the door, slamming it loudly behind her. As soon as she left, he found himself grinning smugly. Only a minute later, however, the pride evaporated, and he was left with a sour scowl on his face. He didn't want to feel bad about his words - they were true at any rate. Yet here he was, regretting them all the same.

But he still had his dignity, and he wasn't about to chase her. That would only give her more power over him, and he was better off without her anyways. If he didn't have to feel heartbreak at his departure, then that was the most desirable outcome. He hadn't even gone into their relationship wanting to fall in love with her, and he definitely didn't want that sort of effect now, regardless of how perfect she was.

* * *

After another hour, Loki was pacing in the room, running his hands through his hair. One moment, he would be considering going after Natasha, but the greater part of him was beginning to worry about his brother. They had been gone for hours now, and though the factory they had gone to would take time to investigate, they had been gone for a little longer than he had originally anticipated.

Loki had always prided himself of being able to handle stressful situations far better than his brother. Thor's rash temper typically would lash out, leaving his dimwitted brain to catch up at the time of punishment. Loki, meanwhile, had always acted cool and relaxed, formulating plans consistently and ready for anything that could be thrown at him. But right now, he was ready to abandon the hotel and track his brother down and drag his ridiculous ass back and curse him for worrying him so.

Fifteen minutes of additional escalating fear, Loki found his shoes, tying them haphazardly. Stupid buffoon probably got himself cornered and was seconds away for burning down the facility. If he hadn't done that already. It had always been his job to drag his brother out of these situations. Why had he even believed for one moment that Thor would have been able to handle this sort of mission? The idiot was an open book, unable to hide anything.

Opening his door, he met the surprised face of Natasha, hand poised to knock on the door. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, securing his key card in his pocket before walking out into the hallway.

"I'm getting worried," she explained, reaching into his pocket and taking the card back out, opening the door a second later. "I'm going after them."

"That's a riot, love. You get tired of standing after thirty seconds, and you plan to walk into a facility armed with weapons equipped with the power of the Tesseract?" he asked skeptically, latching onto her arm and preventing her from walking to her suitcases in the corner. "You're not going anywhere."

"You think you can stop me?" she grunted, tearing her arm from his fingers.

"I know I can," he corrected with contempt.

Natasha sighed and ran a hand through her hair. The next moment, the heel of her palm drove his nose deep into his face, knocking him backwards. Blood immediately began to trickle out of the abused piece of cartilage, and she didn't stop there. Kicking him in the stomach and then in the chin a second later, his back was up against the wall.

She directed a punch to his gut, but he deflected quickly, grabbing the offending arm and twisting it behind her back, driving her face into the same wall. "Stop it!" he yelled, her head jerking backwards and hitting his nose once more, blood spurting into her red hair.

"Make me!" she screamed, elbowing him in the gut and sending him backwards onto the bed. She made a run for her duffel, unzipping it and digging around for her gun.

Loki groaned, before running and ramming into her side, knocking the freshly acquired weapon from her hand. She froze, stunned for a moment, and he took this time to powerfully swipe his hand across her face, knocking her to the floor. She reached up to clutch her reddened cheek, staring at him with tears from the blow in her green eyes. Her breath was rapid, and her eyes were wide. "You hit me," she muttered.

"I've done a lot more than that just now," he growled.

"But you _hit _me, Loki," she panted.

"What a surprise! Defending myself is officially out of the question now, isn't it?" he demanded, throwing his arms out to the side. Natasha sniffled, running her hand under nose to stifle the noise. It was at that moment when he really saw how badly he had hit her. The porcelain skin was currently aglow with a cherry red tint that matched the shade of her hair. He could even pinpoint the long lengths of his fingers on her face. "Natasha," he said softly, reaching for her, watching as she recoiled a little. The action made his heart clench painfully, and he crouched down beside her, reaching out to touch the handprint. Her eyes snapped shut, almost as if she expected roughness once more, but he tenderly stroked the redness, seeing a tear drip out of her eye and land on the pad of his thumb. "I'm so sorry," he apologized. "That was wrong of me. I shouldn't have lost my temper with you. You know how much I hate to see you hurt, and to know that I did this to you… I'm sorry."

Natasha's arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a crushing hug, burying her face into his broad shoulder. "I don't like apologizing for things," she said, voice muffled as more tears decorated his shirt. "But I'm sorry too. For probing earlier. You were right when you said that you've respected my distance, and I should have respected your privacy more. I guess I'm just in the habit of having to know everything that everyone is thinking, being a spy and all. I should have realized that you wouldn't have let that happen though."

"I shouldn't have attacked you and brought up our last argument though," he reminded, returning the hug gratefully, pulling her into his lap.

"I guess we're even then," she said with a weepy chuckle. She pulled away, wiping away any remaining tears. At the sight of his eyes glued to her slapped face, she turned her head, hiding it. "It's okay, Loki. I don't blame you. I had it coming."

"In Asgard, it is greatly frowned upon to exert force on a woman," he commented, reaching out once more to cup her cheek.

"I'm not a regular woman, Loki," she replied.

"Thank Odin for that," he agreed.

"Your nose is still bleeding," she remarked, reaching for a tissue. Easily, he pushed away her hand, smearing his blood over his face with a cheeky grin.

"Now we match," he teased.

"That's disgusting," she said, grimacing.

"I'm a disgusting person," he said with a shrug.

"Stop that. We just needed to let out some steam to fix what happened earlier."

"Then I hate to think of what could come out of this relationship. We aren't exactly what one would call, a constantly happy couple. If it takes me hitting you every time we have a disagreement to settle our differences and be happy again, maybe we shouldn't do this."

Natasha smiled softly, beginning to wash away the blood on his face. "Do you honestly think that you'd be able to stay away from me if we were to do something like that? I don't think I'd be able to. Maybe next time, we could let out our steam in other, more pleasurable ways?" She arched an eyebrow up at him teasingly, seeing him not taking the bait. Deciding to give the topic a rest, she asked, "Where were you going earlier?"

Loki sighed, blue eyes closing. "To find Thor. Odin knows what the idiot has gotten himself into. I should never have let him go off on his own. Manipulation has never been one of his strengths. Probably strung up on a pole right now with that stupid grin on his face while the world crumbles around him."

"I'll go with you," she volunteered, climbing out of his lap and retrieving her gun.

"I was serious when I said that you weren't coming, Natasha," he said clearly, standing from the floor. "You're still injured, and I don't like the idea of you getting even more hurt, or worse."

"It isn't just your brother, Loki. It's Clint." He flinched at the name. "Be as angry as you like with me, but I'm not going to let him die if I can do something about it. He's been my partner ever since I met him, and I don't care if you hate him. I'm going after him. So, you can either be with me on this, and we have a great rescue mission together, or we have a disjointed rescue mission, where one of us dies, and Thor or Clint dies too."

Loki frowned deeply, glaring at her. "I'm going in to save Thor," he enunciated. "With you there, all I'd be able to focus on is keeping you safe."

"I can take care of myself," she vindicated.

"Like you did a moment ago?"

"You're a god! What can you expect? And I was able to hold my own!" she yelled.

Loki sighed, pinching his injured nose, flinching at the pain it caused. "We're doing it again."

Natasha repeated the sigh, walking up to him and resting her hand on his cheek. "If you go alone, then I'm just going to worry about you and Clint. At least with me being there, I'd be able to keep an eye on you. And you promised that you wouldn't leave my side. Is that what you're trying to do right now? Leave me alone, here? With Stark?"

"That won't work," he told her dryly, not wanting to admit her progress at winning him over.

"Won't it? What if they're just waiting for you to leave me here at the hotel, and then take me away again? I bet this time, they wouldn't wait to give me any drug. They'd probably just kill me. All based off of principle."

"I thought you could handle yourself?" he retorted.

"I can't when I'm drugged, And the others have never seen me drugged; they wouldn't know what to do. Stark would try to cop a feel, and Steve wouldn't want to touch me. Who knows what kind of destruction Banner could cause at the sight of my limp and paralyzed body…" she continued.

Growling, he shoved her away. "Fine! Fine, Woman! You win! Let's go!"

Grinning smugly, she kissed his cheek, holstering her gun in her belt and covering it with a leather jacket. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet. If you die, either I'll kill myself, or Barton will kill me."

"You will do no such thing," she declared, latching onto his arm.

"Should we tell the others?" he guessed, closing the door behind them.

"I suspect that they wouldn't be too keen on either of us going. The faster we can get to the factory, the better. Be best not to tell them anything. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission."

Nodding in agreement they quitted the hotel, calling a taxi and giving directions hastily.

As soon as they arrived, Natasha gave his hand a comforting squeeze. He merely gave her a sad look before they ran into the main lobby of the building.

It was an ordinary looking room, but neither of the manipulators were fooled by the pleasant plants and decorative fountain. Her hand snuck under her jacket, clutching the butt of her gun, the cool metal reassuring in her palm. She was the Black Widow now. Not Natasha Romanoff. "Can you hear anything?" she whispered, eyeing the receptionist's desk mysteriously.

"There's a faux workplace upstairs. It's the basement that is the real one," he stated.

Not caring about how he knew that, she dodged to the desk, searching through the files in the drawers. "Let me know when someone's coming," she ordered, seeing him nod in response. Quickly, her eyes scanned any available information on the sheets, finding simple business type documents everywhere. Moving to the computer, she searched for a locked file, smirking in success when she discovered it. Testing a number of passwords, she began to get disgruntled when none would work. She had one more opportunity, and then the alarms were going to go off.

"Try Odin," he whispered, sensing her distress. "Schmidt idolizes Odin."

Typing in the four letter word, the folder opened, and they both grinned evilly. "The Tesseract isn't here," she mentioned with a frown. "It's in… Switzerland. About a quarter mile from that one hotel you brought me to after we escaped."

"What is happening here then?" he asked, coming to stand behind her behind the desk.

"Just a weapons factory. It's just like in the war. He had a number of factories set up all around the country, each making weapons. Even if the Cube isn't here, this place is still highly dangerous."

"We need to find the others," he whispered.

Black Widow easily agreed, standing and closing the windows on the computer, erasing any evidence that she was ever there. "Lead the way," she gestured.

Loki and her walked to the stairs, taking them down quietly, gliding more than running. "Wait, wait, wait," he hurried, stopping her. He turned to a door with the German word "Janitor's closet" painted in bright red letters on it. "I assume that whatever this says is simply a decoy," he said, grasping the door handle and finding it locked. The door lock beside the door was numerically barring the entrance, and she was beginning to get impatient.

Black Widow sighed, fishing out her gun and digging out her muffler, shooting the lock with a quiet 'thud.' He opened the door with ease, but she latched out onto his arm, stopping him. "There's a camera right behind us," she whispered. Even now, she suspected that the alarm had been triggered and there would be HYDRA agents momentarily to collect them.

"What do we do?" he asked. "It's too late to do anything but continue."

She arched an eyebrow. "Smile," she said, turning around and flashing a wide smile for the camera before opening the door and going inside.

The area was dark, and if it wasn't for the subtle whirring of machinery, she may have actually bought that it was indeed a janitor's closet they had entered. The door closed behind them, and they were enveloped in the darkness. She felt Loki's fingers twitch against hers, and she easily took his hand, feeling a veil of safety fall over her, shrouding her from the evil of the room.

She heard a little snap, and in his other hand, she saw a little ball of light hovering. The light gave her a little more comfort, finding that she could see the grates under her feet and mildew coating the cement walls. Just because she had him with her though, that didn't exactly quench all of the anxiousness she was feeling. She was about to confront the man who had intimidated her and had incapacitated her, owning her body and controlling her life. Just like Russia all over again.

As if able to feel her fear, he leaned around her and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. "Stay with me, and you'll be fine, love."

Black Widow shook her head free of all of her worries, the spy in her annoyed with the petty emotion. Fear was forbidden for someone of her stature to feel. She was the Black Widow - in control and the one in the power position. Schmidt was nothing but another trivial man. Just another mission. Who was in over his head and was unaware of her true abilities. He liked to think he had her pegged, but she would show him. The Black Widow was not a woman to be predictable.

"Are they in here? Do you think?"

"I suppose there is always the chance that they are in the other, faux factory," he mentioned.

"You think yourself powerful, puny man?!" they heard an angry British accent yell and the sound of a shattering rattle. Thor.

"I suppose we can dismiss that theory," Loki said with dry humor, looking apologetically at his partner. "Slowly, now. I need to eliminate the light, or else they could find us. The element of surprise has always been one of my favorites, my spider."

Nodding in acceptance, the light dimmed into nothing, but the hand wrapped around her own remained, a rock for Natasha. They walked on quietly, clutching onto each other and the railings on either side of them. She kept her gun out, meaning her hand only traced the round, cylindrical shape of the rails, confident in her balance. Stealthily climbing down another set of stairs and experimentally going through a metal door, the couple was met with a blinding white light, stunning their dilated pupils. In a flash, he pulled her to the side, hiding behind the door and allowing their pupils to adjust.

"The factory," he said quietly.

"The factory," she agreed. "This is where they are. Isn't it?" she assume, faintly seeing him nod. "Let's go," she said firmly, holding her gun tightly in her palm.

* * *

**Well, there it is! I hope you guys aren't mad at me about another cliffy. I truly do apologize, and I hadn't intended for it to end up this way. But, you know the fingers… once they get going, all sense of reasoning in my head goes out the door and they do whatever the hell they want. Oh well.**

**What'd you guys think about this one? Their relationship is tricky to write, personally. One minute, I want them to be an adorable couple and stuff, but in the back of my mind, I'm like… "Yeah, that's not them though." They're aggressive people, and I think that part of the reason we love the coupling so much as readers is because of that antsy, angry theme that they have together. And it totally works! I hope you guys agree. I tried to keep it 50/50 though. So everyone is happy.**

**Again, review and let me know what you think! I seriously think that we can do better than four reviews. Five at least? Please?**

**I will be updating on Saturday, as usual, so don't think that Sundays are the new update days. Yesterday was just too busy to finish the chapter up, is all.**

**Oh, and I have to say this, cause this is exciting! At Target, they have this sparkly dark green nail polish, and OH MY GOODNESS! I am currently wearing the most amazing Loki Nails right now. Seriously something awesome to invest in Loki fangirls!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	17. The Rescuers

_**Chapter 17 - The Rescuers**_

**Hello, my lovelies! How are all of you? I hope you're well. Spring Break is just around the corner for moi - not sure if that includes you, but I hope it does! Everyone deserves a reprieve from the evil that is school for a while. Just one more week!**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Made me smile real big! Let's get to 150 so we can do another one-shot thingy!**

**I really don't have much to say, so we'll just carry on with the story. :D**

**Disclaimer: Me no own the marvelous world of Marvel.**

* * *

He gave her a firm look, mixed with that ounce of worry and care that gave her slight pause. He was worried, and she knew that the last time she saw that look, she ended up being knocked out and drugged. Deciding to take his advice a little more seriously, she stood on her toes, pressing a tight kiss to his lips, feeling him instantly respond.

"I want to see you at all times," he warned as they pulled away. "Understood?" he demanded, latching onto her upper arm and squeezing it painfully hard to get his point across. "I don't care if that means that Barton dies - you stay with me."

"You're not the boss of me, Loki," she growled, yanking her arm away. "I'm going to find Clint."

"This is the same arrogant attitude you had before, and I ended up having to barge into the mountain, nearly killing myself in the process, all to save your arrogant ass. We did it your way once; we are doing it my way now."

"Because your way is so much better," she snipped crudely with a glare.

The grip tightened, making her wince as the feeling of her arm going numb from lack of blood flow. "I will not lose you, Natasha," he ground out.

The use of her name caught her off guard for the briefest of moments, all the time it took for him to seep into her mind completely. The Black Widow mentality faded from her thoughts, Natasha coming back into focus as she stared at the man in front of her. The man who was genuinely concerned for her welfare. The man who didn't want to see her hurt. Who would protect her from anything that the world would throw at her, even if it meant that she would possibly hate him for the rest of her life. Because for Loki Laufeyson, she came first.

A strange and foreign concept, it was, but it still gave her a startling sense of sentiment for him.

Nodding once more, she gently pried his fingers from her arm, leaning up to kiss him once more, this kiss sweet and tender, like she was memorizing the feel of his lips on hers. "I will find Clint," she whispered against the thin lips. "But with you," she hurried. "Right now though, we need to get in there before anything really bad happens to them, alright?"

He gave a stout nod in determination, kissing her once more before dodging into the factory, the bright light enveloping him once more. She followed without hesitation, gun cocked and ready to fire.

As her eyes adjusted to the burning light, thick steel doors materialized on the sides of the clean white walls. Deeper in, she saw conveyor belts, each carrying some form of a weapon, workers in an assembly positioned at every turn.

With a giant god beside her, and with her bright red hair, they deeply contrasted with the environment around them, becoming the target of all stares. It only took an instant for the workers to grasp the idea that they were being attacked, and then there were alarms going off everywhere. Shrill noise pierced her ears, but she didn't flinch, her muscles taking over as they fluidly moved with cat-like grace to her first opponent. Kicking away the gun he drew from his belt, she aimed the gun pointedly at his head, finger closing around the trigger and making a pop in the screeching air.

Burly arms wrapped around her front, her back pressing up against a suited chest that definitely wasn't Loki's. Elbowing her attacker in the gut, she heard him grunt in pain, hold weakening. That was all it took for her to stomp forcefully on his foot and knock him in the chin with her elbow. Spinning around, her fist met with his solar plexus, knocking him backwards. The gun's "pop" followed thereafter, red spattering the white floor.

Loki had inventively created multiples of himself, each fighting their own worker. She knew that she should stay here, fight alongside him, but she needed to find Clint and Thor. Clint especially. Sending a mental apology to her lover, she sunk into one of the few shadows of the facility, green eyes alight with a spark that resembled a madwoman, no doubt.

"I thought I told you, we would get them together," she heard from behind her. Instinctively, she dropped to the floor, sweeping her long legs around in a swooping circle, catching a pair of legs, a thud resounding in her ears. "Natasha!" he yelled, making her jump as she realized her attacker.

"You should know better than to sneak up on me, Immortal God," she remarked, panting as she stood up once more.

"It surprises me that you honestly expected that I would not see a mass of bright red hair suddenly vanish from my vision, Mortal Woman," he mocked with a grim smile. "You couldn't wait?" he assumed, the scowl plain on his angular face.

"You know me, love," she teased, beginning to move through the hallway, hand pressed against the wall to guide her way.

"Oh, now who's using the pet name?" he retorted, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"Now isn't the time for flirting," she scolded. "We need to find them and then get out of here."

Loki fell silent, but with a snap of his fingers, the little ball of light reappeared, illuminating the passageway. "From what I recall, Thor's voice seemed to be coming from the south from where we had been standing." He paused in his stride, closing his eyes, free hand twitching as he thought. "The next option we get to go right, that is where we must go."

The right came up only a moment after his words, encouraging the both of them. Two tall, sturdy cages sat perched in a lonely corner, as if hiding. But the two, restless forms inside of those cages caught their attention immediately. Thor grunted with exertion as he tried to pry the bars apart, while Clint paced around the small dwelling.

"Tasha?" Clint breathed upon seeing his partner. He clung to the bars then, smiling widely as she approached him, taking inventory of his form. "What are you doing here?" he whispered.

"Bailing your ass out, it would appear," she grunted, now taking hold of the heavy padlock in her hands. "You didn't have a pick?" she demanded, looking quizzically at the archer.

"That's not one you pick," he chided, staring with distrust at the device.

Rolling her eyes, she turned to her current partner, seeing him consoling a distressed Thor, holding the padlock in his own hand, staring at it. "Can you break it?" she asked.

"It would appear that this is protected by magic. I cannot breach it," he mused.

"Oh, of course not. I forgot," Clint mocked.

"Shut up, Clint. Now is not the time," she scolded. "How can we break it then?" she asked.

"Not by force either," Thor mentioned. "I have tried."

"And if Thor can't do it, then who can?" Clint argued.

Loki stared at the cage, eyebrows knit together in concentration. Reaching out, he latched onto the bars of the small prison, an evil smile taking over his features. "But the cage isn't," he said sneakily, focusing his power until a wide hole was created in the metal, just big enough for Thor to climb through. He turned pompously to Clint still in his cage. "As much as I would love to leave you here, something tells me that my partner would be grievously disappointed in such behavior." Natasha punched his arm and gestured to the cage. "Yes, love, I'll get him out. Just give me a moment," he groaned, holding the cage bars until they parted dramatically. "I do believe you are now in my debt, Barton," Loki mused as the archer scrambled out of the dwelling.

"Or we're officially even," Clint barked back. "You know, with how you made me your evil, psychopathic puppet and everything?"

"Perhaps if you hadn't made your mind so prone to foreign control, it never would have happened. One of the many tragedies of being an organization's puppet after all. You already have the herd mentality."

"Stop it," Natasha scolded, coming in between the two men. "Let's just get out of here."

"We should find the Tesseract," Barton argued.

"It isn't here," Loki commented, making his way to the exit of the room.

"Oh, and you know this how, exactly?" Clint continued.

Loki sighed with frustration, turning around and facing the archer. "I will only say this once, so you had best pay attention. If you ever insinuate that I am in league with Red Skull again, I will not only take control of your mind once more, but I will make you fling yourself off of the highest building in New York, understand me? Your constant distrust of me is what is going to get all of your team members killed in this war, and if you are incapable of adapting to the current circumstances where I am fighting for your side, then I am confident that Fury would woe the day he ever believed you would make a successful agent. One must be able to handle new situations with calmness and integrity, while you have simply made my life, and everyone's lives on the Avengers, a living hell. Get over your issues with me and do something productive. Because knowing you as well as I do, you sure as fuck cannot excel at both at once." With that being said, the god turned dramatically on his heel, striding out of the room.

"Can you believe him?" Barton demanded, thrusting his hand out to the vacant spot in the room.

"Actually, Clint, he's right," Natasha muttered before running at full speed after her lover. She heard Thor's heavy footsteps trample on behind her, most likely masking the subtle steps of Barton. Catching up to Loki's side, she saw felt his hand tightly grasp her upper arm, dragging her into a darker corner of the hall. "Loki, what -"

"Shut up," he hissed. "Someone's coming," he explained.

Thor and Barton approached their side a second later, both immediately interpreting the situation and hunkering down with the other two, quiet. Heavy footsteps fell through the hall, sounds of heels reverberating off of the damp, musty walls.

"You lost them?!" they heard someone yell. "How do you lose them?! They were in a damn cage!" the German voice carried on.

"Schmidt," Loki whispered into her ear, and she recoiled from the vulgar name as if it was a punch to the gut. Her side was now glued to his, wanting to hide behind his taller, wider frame. She wanted to be brave and lash out at the vicious man, kill him for all of the terrible things he had done to her, but she found she couldn't move. Tears welled in her eyes as she realized the fear she felt for the tyrant made her paralyzed, something that she was sure her previous captor would have been proud to know.

Loki's hand squirmed into her own, and she clutched it with a vice like grip, knuckles paper white, and his fingertips a glowing red, turning purple.

"We don't know who could have done it, Sir," another voice said meekly. "There were wide holes in each of the cages, big enough for the prisoners to crawl out of."

"Another rescue mission," Schmidt growled. "The next time we catch one of these vulgar beings in our web, we kill them instantly. Is that understood?"

"Of course, Sir," the voice breathed.

"The blond could not have done this, could he?" Schmidt rambled. "One would have to possess the qualities of magic and spells in order to break the cage this way."

"We are uncertain of the blond's true identity, sir. We have no information of him, just like we had no information of the one who was with the Widow."

"That man is dead," Schmidt vindicated. "I watched the life drain out of his eyes."

"Darling," another voice spoke dreamily. Nicole, Natasha recognized with a scowl. That woman she would have no hesitance to murder brutally. "Where is his body, then? Can we truly ascertain that he is dead? You have always said that in order to claim with conviction that one is deceased, a body is needed for proof, right?"

"With the dose I gave him, it is impossible for him to have survived."

Nicole giggled maniacally. "I personally hope he is alive," she commented, and Natasha looked up at Loki with fear, Loki being sure to avoid her gaze. "I would find such fun with him. He isn't as built as the blond, but oh, the wickedness in his eyes… I could just imagine the kind of demon he would turn into at night. And then the sopping fool he would be at his death."

"He loved the Widow," Schmidt said easily.

"As I love you," Nicole answered calmly. "That does not mean that I would deny him."

"No matter," Schmidt enunciated. "This escape could not have happened very long ago. I assume you have your people searching for them?"

"Of - of course, Sir," the other man said nervously.

"Get your men and find them, you blubbering idiot! If you value your life!"

"Loki, your doubles!" Natasha breathed into his ear. "If they think you're dead… they can't see your doubles!"

Loki nodded and then looked down at her. "They've been eradicated for the past ten minutes. They finished off the men in that one room long before now. Rest assured, no one saw them and lived to identify them to Schmidt. I even had one take out the surveillance. We just need to get out of here," he relayed, Natasha relaxing at the thought.

Their enemies footsteps trumped off a moment later, Nicole's giddy laugh coating the musky air.

Without a word, Loki and Natasha led the others out of the basement, Natasha making quick to shoot the camera just outside of the faux janitor's closet. Loki then moved to destroy the footage, smiling in pride as he held the broken tape in his large hands.

They ran up the stairs until they reached ground level once more. Natasha broke a side window next, not caring about the sound that it created. They each dove out of window, landing in a patch of shrubs. "Loki, can you teleport us out of here?" she asked breathlessly.

He nodded, reaching for all of them, closing his eyes and casting the spell. They landed back in front of their hotel, Loki worn and tired from taking so many people. He collapsed on the asphalt road, blood dripping out of his still injured nose.

"Why couldn't you do that earlier?!" Clint demanded. "Instead of us running around the place on a goose chase, maybe getting caught?"

"The facility was on a lockdown," he explained, Natasha crouching down beside him and touching his sweating forehead disapprovingly.

"But you did magic downstairs," he carried on.

"That was underground, you idiot! Not exactly a clear part of the infrastructure," Loki said. "And we needed to destroy the footage of us on that one camera. It had caught us before."

"And what about that bit where Schmidt said that you love Natasha, hmm? What about that?"

"Agent Barton, can you not see that my brother is injured?" Thor demanded, giving Clint a rough shove. "He just saved your life from a painful death, no doubt, and this is how you repay his generosity? You berate his abilities, and then demand answers from him while he is unfit to give them. He is weak from the journey here, and the least you could do now, I should think, would be to get out of his sight. And mine, before I unleash the ferocity I am feeling towards you now."

"If you hadn't fucked up the mission, we wouldn't even be in this mess!" Barton yelled, jabbing a finger into Thor's chest.

"Do not touch me again," Thor growled, shoving Barton. "It would have been clear to a blind man that the factory that woman was showing us was a fake! You were doing nothing to progress the mission further, so I took it upon myself to ask the question!"

"I didn't think there would be a secret, underground lair!" Clint snapped.

"No, you didn't think!" Thor agreed. "You saw a woman, and your mind got sidetracked. Your impure, callous desire to simply take that woman caused you to notice nothing else. Perhaps if your mind hadn't been so corrupted, we actually would have had a successful mission."

"You know I don't have any affection towards that receptionist," Clint vindicated.

"Affection isn't needed to have intercourse," Thor retorted.

"Wait," Natasha interrupted, glaring at Clint now. "You were the one to fuck the mission up?"

"No, Nat!" Clint argued.

"Because, if you did, Loki just went in there to cover for a mistake that you made. And nearly killed himself in the process," she added rudely.

"Now you feel jealous?" Clint mused, throwing his arms out to the side. "I cannot win, can I? When you don't want me, you get upset for me going after you. Now, when I suddenly look at other women, you get jealous?" "I'm not jealous, Barton," she yelled, Clint falling silent. Rarely, she ever used his last name, and when she did, it was never in a good way.

Natasha looked down at Loki, who was rather pale and still had blood seeping from his nose. "You need to lie down," she instructed, wrapping a small arm around his middle and trying desperately to lift him to his feet so she could take him to their room. Thor quickly went to assist her, Loki too tired to put up a fight. The receptionists of the hotel looked at them curiously, Thor flashing a breathtaking smile at the woman, and Natasha grinning at the man put them at ease though and didn't comment.

As soon as Loki was plopped down on the bed, she rushed into the bathroom to get a wet cloth to mop away the sweat and blood on his face. By the time she returned to his side, Loki had fallen asleep, something she supposed was a good thing. He needed his rest. "He won't die if we let him sleep, will he?" she asked, regardless.

"No, he won't. He just needs time to recuperate from the journey is all," Thor replied, looking fondly at his little brother. "Thank you, Natasha," he blurted.

"Yeah, no problem. Loki just wanted to make sure you were alright," she replied, setting the cloth on his forehead and letting the cool water drip onto his pale skin.

"Actually I was referring to you artfully defending Loki," Thor said quietly. Natasha's head snapped up to stare at the older brother with surprise. "It isn't very often when he has more than one on his side of things. And I know that he dislikes my help and frequently refuses it. Somewhere inside of him, he considers himself weak to accept the help of his older brother. Perhaps he is of the belief that the assistance I bestow on him is false and not real.

"But it is nice to see someone else take up the charge. A woman, no less. I do not mean to sound prejudice against your gender; I admire you terribly. But women, while never shying away from Loki's… sexual prowess, I suppose is the term, still refuse to come to his aid. He has them for a pleasurable evening, and nothing more. I suppose that Loki would make you think that he has been the one to push eager maidens away, but this is untrue. Loki does not have the capacity to show the love that women desire, and they are very aware of this. Therefore, they push him away and often pretend that he has actually vanished from existence.

"I am merely trying to tell you, Lady Natasha, my brother is very fond of you. He sees you as his saving grace, and while I am confident he has refrained from stating it, I do also believe that his feelings for you are infinitely deep. I wish not to speak for his mind, as I can never know exactly what he thinks - he does keep these thoughts away from me so wondrously. I know that when I witness your interaction, I clearly witness love and affection in his eyes when he looks at you.

"I also understand that these may not be the words you wish to hear from me regarding Loki's feelings. You fear Love. That is also quite clear to me. It is understandable, I assure you. It is a powerful emotion that is not to be toyed with. The power and influence that it can exude on a person renders many helpless and incapable of any other thought. I also implore you not to punish my brother for my lengthy speech. But if I may say, my lady, while the notion of Love is difficult and thereby terrifying to grasp, once one does grasp it, it is truly the greatest feeling one could ever experience. You may see it as a weakness, but something that powerful could only be used as strength."

The long speech ended then, leaving Natasha wide-eyed and shocked from the words that Thor had said about what she had with his brother. The god saw much more than she had ever suspected he could. Far more than the others had. Even more than Clint.

All she could do at the moment was nod and turn back to look at her lover, strewn across the bed, tips of his feet dangling off the edge; he was so tall.

"My lady," Thor said quietly, leaving the room and door closing softly behind him.

Natasha continued to stroke the softness of his cheek, tracing the perfect eyebrows. Her thumb ran over the thin lips, making her smile when she felt him exhale against the small portion of flesh.

According to Thor, Loki was in love with her. She wasn't quite sure how she wanted to interpret something that bold and amazing. She knew that he cared. She knew that she cared. The things they had gone through together dictated nothing less between them. But Love? Was she even capable of feeling an emotion like that? Everything in her said that it was completely impossible. She wasn't built for Love. She was built for killing and seducing. It had been the job she had known all her life.

So then what was the burning feeling in her chest? A feeling that she only felt when she looked at him? A feeling that swallowed her body whole and made her mind and heart race. Chemicals in her head was the scientific answer. Chemicals and hormones made her feel the way she was feeling.

But those reasons were so clear cut! Without any room for any other explanation. And for once, she turned her back on science, knowing that it had to be something more than simple chemicals. Life was too complex to be broken down into little particles in her head and blood. Whether it was Love, she had no idea. She had never felt that before. But she figured that if there was anything that could be labeled such an emotion, it was probably the emotion rumbling through her now.

Smiling, she leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss against his lips, feeling them twitch slightly at the touch. His lips responded a moment later, his hand running up to tangle in her hair while the other settled on her hip. "You're awake," she mused, pulling away.

"How long was I asleep?" he questioned lightly, thumb running on her cheek sweetly.

"Not very long," she answered. "How are you feeling?"

"Better after that kiss," he teased. "I imagine that I would only feel better after another?" he proposed provocatively.

"You're lucky you get to play the injured card," she mocked, leaning over and kissing him once more, sighing in pleasure as his tongue begged for entrance. Pulling away again, the words were at the tip of her tongue, the words that she thought would convey her feelings. She wanted to say them so badly and tell him just how important he had become to her in the short time they were together.

But she couldn't.

_Love is for children. _It was wrong, and it only would get one of them killed. It didn't matter what Thor had said about it being a powerful strength between two people. It was a liability. It wasn't real. It was something that only children could experience because children didn't know any better. They were naïve and innocent and didn't know the cruelties of the world. How could a world like the one they lived in, a world so full of malice and hate and pain have something like Love?

She looked sorrowfully into his eyes, and that was when she noticed something: a twinkle. A familiar twinkle, she realized - one she had seen so many times before when he looked at her. And it was a twinkle that she had never been able to identify before. It had been foreign and unusual. Maybe it was an Asgardian twinkle, it was that foreign to her gaze.

But it was a pleasant twinkle. One that was supposed to convey something. Something important, she thought. Like a phrase with meaning. Could this be the affection that Thor had spoken of?

His lips leaned up to find hers again, something she eagerly welcomed. It wasn't possible, and she knew that, but she could have sworn that she could taste that twinkle in his kiss. That affection and care that he felt. He moved from underneath her, rolling her onto her back on the bed, and never breaking the kiss.

"You best tell me to stop now, love," he murmured on her lips.

"No," she breathed, letting him have his control and letting herself sink into the gentleness of his kiss all the more.

* * *

_Opening her eyes, she was met with a breathtaking orange sky, filled with large, puffy clouds. The balcony out of the room, so inviting and the picture so serene, she could have died._

_An arm tightened around her middle, lips melding into her hair before slipping down the side of her neck lovingly._

"_Are you awake, Mortal Woman?" he asked softly._

_Turning over in their bed, she met the kind, alight eyes of Loki, smiling widely._

_The bedroom door flew open, soft pattering of feet trumpeting their presence on the tile floor. A small, flailing body threw itself on their bed, a black tuft of hair coloring the pale head._

_Loki laughed joyously at the sight of the boy, abandoning his attentions towards Natasha and raining kisses down on the child, throwing him ecstatically into the air and catching him again with a hearty laugh. The toddler laughed loudly with happiness, fiddling with Loki's chin and giving the angular cheek a playful slap._

_The boy then reached for her, something that made her green eyes wide in surprise. This being couldn't be hers… could it? She didn't want children. Did she?_

_She found herself reaching easily for the child, cuddling him close to her body and settling down into the mattress, running gentle nails up and down his back._

_The boy looked tenderly at her, eyes green and bright, mirror images of her own. This baby was hers! Natasha's mouth dropped open, mentally in shock at the realization, and physically to blow raspberries on the baby's chubby cheek, making him let out a tinkling laugh._

"_Motherhood becomes you so endearingly, love," Loki remarked, kissing his son's head before climbing out of their bed._

_Natasha found herself brightly smiling at the compliment, something that her body and mind actually agreed with. Motherhood. The caring of another, smaller, vulnerable life. And being good at it. Someone like her, with a past like her own, having the ability to show so much love and tenderness towards a baby! It was a remarkable feeling, one that she actually didn't want to let go of._

* * *

She awoke with a start, Loki's arm tight around her waist to prevent her from running. Sitting up in their bed, she ran a hand through her hair and then holding the covers up over her bare breasts. Loki sat up with her, rubbing soothing circles on her small back. He scooted closer to her, lips kissing her cheek. "Another nightmare?" he supposed.

The word made her frown, and she pushed him away. "No," she said with conviction. The dream she just had was definitely not what she would call a nightmare.

"Well, it certainly wasn't the kind of dream you typically have," Loki commented, relaxing back into the bed again, hand still on her back. "What was it about?"

"It wasn't a nightmare," she said, looking away from him.

"You won't tell me?" he guessed.

"I would rather not," she confirmed.

"Was it embarrassing?" he continued, and she could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"No."

"So, it wasn't a vivid portrayal of what we did earlier today?'

"No!" she said vehemently. "Definitely not about that."

Loki looked at her curiously before nodding in acceptance. "Fine. Thor wanted us to go to Stark's room twenty minutes ago."

"Why wouldn't you wake me up?!" she demanded, throwing the blankets off of herself and reaching for some clothes.

"Because you needed your sleep," he replied with ease. "Or rather, I like watching you sleep."

"That's not at all creepy," she muttered sarcastically, slipping her leg into her pants.

"I heard that women like that," he said indignantly. "At least that's what the television portrayed…"

"Twilight is not what you should base Earthen reality off of, Loki," she said simply, digging through her luggage to find a brush for her hair.

Loki shrugged and watched with interest as she tidied up, smiling widely at her as she finished. When she ducked into the bathroom to complete the process, he sighed, putting his own clothes back on just in time for her to emerge from the bathroom. "Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said eagerly, grabbing one of the key cards and exiting the room.

"Finally! We thought you guys had a quickie, or something!" Stark announced upon their arrival. "We think we found the Cube," he said, walking over to the planning table and pointing at papers. "It is in the mountains, about twenty miles away from where Red was holed up."

"We're going for an whole-scale attack here," Steve started, taking control. "Every time we've tried to be discreet with Schmidt, it's only blown up in our faces. It's time that we just go in and get the Cube back. Now that we know where it is, there isn't any reason as to why we need to hang back at all and plan something that is just going to get thwarted again."

"Where's Clint?" Natasha asked, noticing the absence of the archer.

Everyone quickly looked away from her, Banner taking a deep and steadying breath. "Thor told us about what happened there. His negligence of the mission and nearly getting the two of them killed. And how he reacted when you two went in after them."

"Why are you evading the question?" she redirected.

"He's been stressed, and we understand that," Steve explained calmly. "There's been a lot on his mind, what with us having Loki working with us, and what with the two of you building a relationship together. But we think that maybe all of this has been a little too much for him to handle. We called Fury and talked to him about it. Fury says that he's never seen or heard of Clint being that erratic on a mission. He keeps things tucked away and is in control of his emotions." Natasha nodded in agreement. "But that hasn't been the case lately. And we all agreed that he's a liability with the way that he's been acting. It's dangerous for Bruce to be around him, for one." Bruce nodded furiously. "And also given that we don't really have that background experience with him under pressure. He came in at the end of the last war, and we managed fine, but he's angry, Ma'am."

"So, you kicked him out of the Avengers?" she assumed, looking at her teammates.

"Temporarily," Stark corrected. "Just until we get through this little hump in the road."

"So, every time something wrong goes on, you kick him because you can't handle him?" she continued, feeling anger build up inside of her.

"Please understand our predicament, my lady," Thor hurried. "It is clear that Loki and Clint are never going to get along, and for this particular problem, we obviously need Loki's alliance and help. Red Skull, I have been informed, is informed of sorcery, and out of all of us present, only Loki has this capability. Banner and Stark are both very well equipped mentally with the brilliance of this planet, but this is still not magic. We have warned Agent Barton of his pessimistic behavior before, but since he is unable to cooperate and work with Loki, we have had no choice in the matter."

Natasha sighed and ran a hand through her freshly brushed hair, looking down at the carpet of the room. They were right, and she knew it. Barton's attitude had been dark and moody the entire time, and it had only been causing the team problems. Maybe it was partially her fault by being with Loki in a relationship, but he had to know that it was happening. She regretted that her best friend was incapable of being happy for her, but that didn't mean that she was going to give him a pass for being a total jackass to her and Loki about it.

She nodded in resignation. "I'm going to go talk to him though," she muttered. "I'm not going to ask him to come back on the team, but I need to talk to him. Part of this is my fault."

"The heart wants what the heart wants, Nat," Steve excused, sending a nervous look to Loki who quickly moved to admire the drapes of the room. "That's not your fault."

"I've hurt him more than I needed to," she disagreed. "I know he can't be on the team. But let me have this." Everyone nodded, Loki being the exception. Sighing, she walked over to his side. "This isn't going to change anything between us, is it?" she asked quietly so that the others wouldn't hear.

Loki sighed, hand tightening around the curtains. "I understand what you need to do. It is as I stated: one needs to be ready to change and adapt. I know that you are close to Barton, and I never said that you needed to excommunicate him. Just…" He finally turned and met her gaze. "Don't let him kiss you."

Natasha smiled, standing on her toes and bashfully planting a kiss on his cheek. "Just you," she whispered in his ear.

Everyone was grinning like idiots when she turned around. Glaring at each of them, she quit the room, heading down the hall to find and talk to Clint. She knew that she should have been upset by Loki's lack in trust in her, but she actually didn't see it that way. All she saw was that he understood her connection to Clint. And he wasn't doing anything to pull her away from her long-time partner. And that gave her the courage she needed to confront Clint about this mess.

* * *

**There's the chappie! I hope that you guys liked it. There were parts that I really loved, and then there were parts where I wanted to throw my computer out the window and call myself a disgrace to the writing world. But I gotta say, that Thor speech was probably a piece of my best writing ever. I can be proud of that for forever. And I will.**

**Just because she had a kid in the dream DOES NOT MEAN that she will have one in this story. I am still undecided about that whole ordeal, but I would love to hear your thoughts on the manner. It's up to you.**

**Also, no hatred towards the Twilight fans out there. I personally don't like it at all, and had to include that little mention there, but that's it. Hope I didn't hurt anyone's feelings!**

**Anyway, leave a review, my lovelies! Let's get to 150! We're only 32 away!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	18. The Talk

_**Chapter 18 - The Talk**_

**Hello, my precious lovelies! How are all of you doing? Spring Break is finally upon us! (or at least for me, it is) So happy! Hopefully that will mean that I will get to update a little more frequently this week. We shall have to see.**

**On another note, only 21 more reviews until we do another one-shot! Woo hoo!**

**But let's move on with the story already! Read the notice at the end of the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Even if Marvel sued me for owning anything, they wouldn't be able to squeeze a dime out of me, so it'd be pointless to even try.**

* * *

How could she have picked _him? _Out of everyone on the team, she chose _him. _She could have had any of them! Stark, the man-whore would have jumped to have a relationship with someone as beautiful. Rogers would have been the good-guy and would have given her everything she could have wanted from a man. Thor claimed he was with that astrophysicist, but had he really looked at Natasha? Mortal women didn't get any better than that! Even Banner probably wouldn't have denied her if she wanted the sweet, brainy guy, even with anger issues.

Or him, he thought pessimistically with a grimace. He knew her better than any of them. He had seen Natasha at her worst, and he had seen her at her best. He had been her best friend for years. And he had loved her from the moment he had first looked at her. Barton had told her that he had saved her because he saw innocence and purity in her, but that wasn't entirely true. He saw wildness when he looked at her - unpredictability, harsh perfection that was so unique, he was sure she was one of a kind. It was what made him fall in love with her. All of his life, he had been given structure and defined lines to never cross. Falling in love with the opposite of that only seemed natural.

But she chose Loki! A bastard, even in the literal sense, a power hungry fiend who was selfish and emotionless. Killed for pleasure and manipulated Clint's mind without a hint of regret in his icy eyes as he did it either. And she chose that monster over him - her supposed best friend. It didn't make sense.

A knock resonated on the dull, fake wood, a knock he had memorized long ago. For a moment, he pondered if she was coming to apologize. To invite him back into the team, to say that she had chosen him and divested herself of the filth that was Loki.

Barton was a realistic man, however. He knew his partner better than she knew herself, and he knew very well that stubbornness was a key trait in her. She would never be the first to say sorry for something. And she wouldn't go out of her way to comfort someone either. It just wasn't the Black Widow way. She lacked empathy.

Nevertheless, he couldn't deny her. He stood from his desk and opened the door, her small frame pushing through the doorway without a word - a common entrance for the two of them.

She turned on her heel as soon as the door closed, arms folded defensively in front of her, legs parted in a smug stance. Her green eyes were relentless as she stared at him, full lips pursed in a tight frown.

"Did you just come here to glare at me?" he asked, pushing her aside to get back to his desk. Thank God this hotel had those little liquor bottles. He had gone through all but two of them so far, and he figured that upon her departure, both would be empty.

"You realize that this is your fault," she stated, ignoring the question, still staring at him with her cat-like stance. "You getting kicked off, the mission going wrong, all of it." It wasn't a question with her.

Barton scoffed, unscrewing the cap of one of the bottles. Tequila. "You should know this isn't how normal interrogations work," he mocked, throwing back the little bottle, relishing in the burn that trickled down his throat.

"Quit bull shitting me, Clint," she snapped, green eyes now narrowed as she eyed her prey. "Just because there are more people involved in this mission does not mean that you get to scrape off blame to them and not take any for yourself. I know that you don't like working in a group setting, but you need to understand that none of us are really comfortable with this arrangement. It's a work in progress with all of us. You think that I enjoy having Stark's perverted nose following me around like a puppy? Or Banner's constant self-sacrificing behavior and inability to step up to the plate? Or Steve's just overall naivety about everything that I have to take away time from the mission to explain something to him? And Thor's arrogance? It rivals Stark's!"

"What about Loki?" Barton demanded, blue-grey eyes settling on her viciously as the name erupted from his lips.

She scoffed, a faint smirk on her lips. "Just can't stay away from that subject, can you?" she mocked. "You want me to complain about Loki, fine. The only thing that bugs me most about Loki is his ability to understand me, okay? The fact that he and I are the same, and I'm torn on being nothing and everything with him around."

"Are you assuming that I don't understand you?" Barton guessed, eyes squinting as he made the assumption.

Natasha sighed, running a hand through her red hair as she gazed at him. "You used to be the only one who could come remotely close to understanding me, Clint. But you never fully got there. You think you can relate to every detail in my life, but you can't. You don't get it. Loki does."

Barton frowned. "If I understood you like he does, would you have picked me?" he asked, voice dark and pensive as the words flowed.

She shrugged effortlessly. "I don't know, Clint. I've only ever seen you as my partner. You know that. With Loki, it's a different dynamic."

"Does he love you?" he asked roughly, yet still surprisingly clearly.

Here, the spy took pause, looking away from Barton's inquisitive eyes and moved to the window. "He hasn't said anything like that to me," she enunciated, meeting his gaze calmly, as if her moment of uneasiness had never happened.

"Do you suspect it then?"

She chuckled darkly. "You think I am equipped with the ability to tell when someone is in love with me?" she surmised.

"Yes," he answered rapidly, without thinking. It was a clear answer to him. "You knew long before I told you that I was in love with you. And it's your job to manipulate people's feelings for you." She swallowed uncomfortably. "So, I'll ask again: do you suspect he loves you?"

"I suspect jealousy from you," she evaded, and he violently shook his head at her.

"Answer the question."

Again, her speech broke as she stared at him, unsure of her answer. "I don't know, Clint," she finally answered. "He's a god," she pointed out, as if trying to defend her lack of instinct. "The God of Lies, even. He can hide almost anything."

"But not from you," he retorted, eyebrow cocking at her in suspicion.

Her eyes closed as her face relaxed. "What do you want me to say? That I don't think he's capable of loving anyone, least of all me? Or that I'm incapable of loving anyone?"

He shrugged. "I just want the truth."

"That was the truth," she said vehemently, eyes flaring open to resume their glare. "I do not know if Loki is in love with me. Maybe it's because this relationship is different than the other relationships I've had. Those ones didn't matter to me, and here I am, actually feeling something for the first time in my life for something, and I'm so blinded and confused by what's going on with myself, that I can't even identify what's going on around me. I know that you love me, Clint. And I know that if there's anyone who I should love, it should, by all rights be you. You saved me and gave me a chance. But, for some reason, whatever I'm feeling for Loki is stronger than whatever it is that I should feel for you. Even then, we've both known that I've never seen anything more than friendship between us. I know that you're hurt by my incessant rejection, but I don't know what else to say. It would be wrong of me to indulge you in this and lead you on with the false hope that I could ever love you. You're my friend, and I couldn't do that to you."

Clint's angered frown only grew deeper by the end of her rant, and he glared down at the carpet, willing it to burn away underneath him. "Then let me ask this: do you love him?"

"I just told you that I don't know what I'm feeling towards him! All my life, I've constantly been prevented from having any kind of emotion in me, and this is the first time that I've felt something this strongly before, and it scares me, Clint. I don't know what it's called, I don't know what to expect, I don't know the characteristics of it; everything is lost on me. I just know that when I'm with him… I'm happy. He makes me feel… safe. I've never really had to have that feeling before - I've been able to take care of myself. But there's something about safety that just becomes so hypnotizing after a while. I used to hate it, but it just crept up on me without me even knowing."

"He poisoned my mind and made me kill innocent people, Natasha. Just like the Russians did to you, and you hate them for it," he continued, determined on making her see his way of thinking.

Her smirk turned grim as she glared at him. "Loki was right when he said that a good agent has to be able to adapt to new situations, Barton." Words stuck to the sides of his throat when he heard his last name. All argument he had lined up against her disappeared, allowing her to continue the ramblings. "Be prepared for everything. Evolve into this being that can take whatever fuck is thrown at them. And he was also right when he said that you have a weak mind." Surprise had to be the only thing coursing through him at that moment. "You are so keen on following orders and sticking to them. I don't know if he was just saying it, but it seems like you could have done more to fight the possession. You are such an inspiring leader when you're in charge, but that's only because you're commanded to be that."

"I broke the order by not killing you," he pointed out, suddenly finding his voice.

"Why didn't you break it?" she asked as if she already knew the answer, and he was quite positive that she did. He remained silent now, not trusting his traitorous tongue. "It wasn't really because you saw a potential agent for S.H.I.E.L.D, was it?"

"So, what is it? I'm a self-gratifying asshole, or I'm a diligent goody-to-shoes who does everything he's told to?" he guessed.

Natasha sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, moving to sit next to him. "I understand completely why you hate him. I know that if I was in your shoes, I wouldn't ever have the intention to forgive him for what he did. And I realize that I'm apparently breaking the loyalty that I have to you by seeing past the things he has done. I'm not saying to love him and look up to him; I'm just saying that it's time to stop with the brooding about this. It isn't helping anyone or the mission, which is the most important. Looking at our lives… it seems cliché with the whole 'sleeping with the devil' thing, but I think that it's almost to be expected. To attach ourselves to the one person who could beat us into the ground without even trying. The one person who the tug-of-war match never stops with."

"You think I don't know that?" he retaliated in a quiet whisper. "Nat, that's why I love you." Her eyes closed at the L word, as they always did whenever he said it. The word was like bile in her mouth when she thought of it applying to her, and even now, this wasn't an exception. Except, it wasn't exactly the disappointed kind of bile this time. It was more… dirty. Maybe the words were too similar, but that was the only other word she could apply. The thought of Clint loving her hurt - just the thought that she was going to have to break his heart yet again always did. But more dirty in the way that it was _Clint _that proclaimed his love to her. She didn't want _his _love. She felt almost as if she was cheating on Loki as Clint made his proclamation. It was wrong of Clint to try to pull her away from Loki, or try to guilt trip her into being with him instead of the mischievous god.

"You need to stop loving me then," she enunciated. "Because it isn't going to make me love you."

He chuckled darkly. "I'm not sure it's something that I can exactly turn off…"

"Then figure out some way to stop putting me in these kinds of positions, Clint," she clarified, standing from her seat and walking to the door. She paused just as her hand was about to grasp the handle. "I wish I could say that you could be back on the team. We need you. But, I think it's for the best."

"Yeah, Fury called and gave me the lecture," Clint excused, but she could see clearly his sadness in being thrown out of the Avengers. He may have always been a lone-wolf, but that hadn't made him immune to the desire of companionship, even if it was with a group of egotistical superheroes that had their heads up their asses half the time.

She gave him a grim smile before leaving the room, her heart feeling only a little lighter after their discussion. She could see it in his glazed over eyes - her words weren't causing any kind of positive response in him. He still hated Loki, and he still hated that she had chosen the rebellious god over himself. But she also knew that she had done everything she could, and the rest was up to him. He would pull through, in the end. He always did, regardless of the circumstances that were thrown his way. He would brood silently and pretend like the world wasn't bothering him, but it would. Then, she knew, one day he would come to terms with everything and accept the situation and move on like his little tantrum had never happened. She just hoped that that one day would come sooner, rather than later.

Natasha thought of retiring to Loki's room, maybe to watch television and exclude herself from the other Avengers. She didn't want company, and she was convinced that she would probably even turn Loki away if he tried to come to her aid. She didn't need comfort. Just solitude.

Then the severity of the mission blossomed in her mind, a scowl settling over her porcelain face as she remembered her duties. Emotions weren't supposed to get in the way of the mission. This had never been a problem before, as she had switched off the infernal things a long time ago. But now that they had decided to resurface, (quite at an inopportune time, besides), she felt torn up inside. Suddenly, she could understand the women in movies who hunkered down in their pajamas with a bowl of ice cream. It seemed like the perfect medicine to numb those emotions.

Regardless of what she wanted to do, she knew that it wasn't exactly in her power to decide. The world just happened to need someone, and as long as she was around, she knew that she had to be that someone. Stupid world.

Trudging back to Stark's room, her little fist rapped gently three times on the wood, Stark's excited face popping up almost instantly. Deciding not to question his antics, she stalked into the room, spying Loki still perched stoically by the curtains, right where she had left him.

"How'd it go?" Stark asked invasively, drawing Loki's attention away from the mountainous view outside of the window to look over at the redheaded spy.

"He understands why you did what you did," she explained, realizing that the comment was in all reality, quite a lie. They had barely broached the subject of his dismissal from the mission. Casting a glance at Loki, she knew that he was well aware of the deceit, but didn't comment.

Finding curiosity in his blue gaze, she approached him warily, worried of the onslaught of questions that were no doubt, on the tip of his tongue. She could see them, dancing in his eyes. "We spoke of what our future plan is, regarding Schmidt," he announced, surprising her.

"And?" she asked, happy to be back onto the mission. It was easier than dealing with Loki at the moment anyways.

"Well, it's pretty simply from how I see it," Tony declared proudly, earning an eye roll from all in their company. "We go in, blow the joint to smithereens, grab the Cube, go home."

"Oh yes, of course, why didn't I ever think of that?" Steve muttered. Taking on his leadership role, he stood from the couch and walked to the desk, rummaging through the maps, pointing at certain areas. "Like we said earlier, we've located Schmidt. I've called Maria, and she is coming with a group of agents with more firepower. We figure the entrance to the factory is here." He pointed to a tiny red dot on a mountain's side. "Remarkably close to where they were before, actually. I'm surprised that Schmidt would have the courage to go back to the site where he lost to restart his doings."

"He's a very confident fellow, for sure," Loki affirmed with a sorrowful tone. "He probably is of the belief that there is nothing that can prevent him from attaining his goal this time. He has come back to the realm of the living wiser than he was previously and is aware of his strengths and his weaknesses."

"Remind you of anyone?" Stark teased, earning a glare from all of them.

"Anyways," Steve coughed awkwardly, redirecting their attention back to the map. "From what we can tell, there's a couple different ways into the mountain - they've got a train route set up, coincidentally, just like last time. And then there's the traditional way of banging on the front door."

"How're we going in?" she asked, staring at the two different routes.

"Both ways, actually," Steve answered. "Splitting into two teams. We have a slight advantage in knowing who exactly we're up against, whereas Schmidt is still under the impression that Loki is dead for one, and that he doesn't know that Loki and Thor are gods. And Schmidt has yet to have an appearance of myself to contend with. The three of us are going in by train, while the three of you are going in the more direct way. The majority of Maria's group will be with the three of you, seeing how they're probably all going to be concentrated in the front of the facility. You're going in first, creating a sort of distraction, drawing out Schmidt's forces. If I know Schmidt at all, and I do, he'll try to make a run for it. He'll retreat, grab the Cube and get out. That's where the three of us come in." He looked at Thor and Loki who both nodded in agreement. "Catch him by surprise. Loki's going to use his magic to try to get the Cube away from Schmidt - hopefully the fact that he isn't dead will help with that. Thor, you'll be taking out any guards that Schmidt is going to have with him. I suspect that he'll have a scientist - you'll have to kill them too."

"And you?" Thor interrupted.

"I let the bastard live once," Steve said gruesomely. "I'm not letting him live again." Everyone stared fondly at the soldier, feeling a burst of patriotism splash through them as they stared at their makeshift leader. Even the non-Americans of the team were left in a state of admiration for Steve's determination to finish off his old nemesis.

"And me?" Tony's gruff voice asked, terminating the moment with his patch of humor. "What are the three of us going to be doing?"

"I have unfinished business with Schmidt's little blonde bitch," Natasha said clearly.

Loki chuckled darkly at her, bumping her side. "If I see her with Schmidt, I will be sure to capture her for you, love," he vowed, earning a bright smile from her.

"That's so sweet of you," she cooed playfully.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever, and what about me?" Tony continued to gripe.

"Well, the three of you are simply meant to dispose of as many of Schmidt's followers as you possibly can," Steve answered obviously. "Ms. Romanoff, however, I want you to try to find a way to sabotage the factory. I'm not saying to blow the place up; he'll probably have explosives, but just try to figure out a way to stop the production of the Tesseract weapons." Natasha nodded, confident in her task. "Stark and Banner are just going to be taking everything out they possibly can, destroying machinery and the followers. Maria's people will help with that."

"Why is she 'Maria?'" Tony blurted curiously, catching all of them off-guard. Steve blushed a crimson red and looked firmly at the maps. "I mean, you call Red 'Ms. Romanoff' like an obedient, school boy, yet Agent Hill… is _'Maria.'"_

He swallowed uncomfortably. "Respect for your elders?" he excused lamely.

Natasha sighed and gave him a look. "If we didn't need you at optimum level, know that I would hit you for that comment," she said, eyebrow arched. "How do you even know if I'm older?"

"How old are you then?" Banner asked, piping up from his corner.

Natasha furiously folded her arms, looking at the six men in the room. "It's rude to ask a woman her age; don't you know that?" They continued to stare at her, and she finally sighed. "85."

They all looked over at the Captain who smiled softly. "90," he answered.

"So, I'm not your elder," she remarked. "Anyways, this isn't pertinent to the mission."

"Is 85 a young age for a mortal?" Loki asked suddenly, catching Natasha by surprise, and she redirected her gaze to glare at him.

"Dude, it's ancient," Tony answered for her.

"Yes, you're currently dating an old bag of bones, can we move on now?" she pleaded.

"What is the typical expiration date for mortals?" Thor asked politely, not seeming to have any qualms with the sensitivity of the question.

"You worried about Janie?" Stark teased.

"The thought never once occurred to me," Thor vowed, though it was an obvious lie.

"Humans typically pass on from old age in the 85-100 range," Banner answered.

"So, I can expect you to drop dead any day?" Loki asked, looking alarmed as he stared at Natasha, who looked less than pleased with the direction the conversation was going.

"Do you remember nothing that Barton told you? I don't age like that," she replied. "I've probably still got centuries before I'm out for the count."

Loki seemed put at ease with the answer, smiling widely at her.

"I wonder how old Jane is…" Thor trailed off, a saddened look on his face.

"Hey, most guys would be grateful to get a reprieve from their wives after fifty plus years of marriage," Stark pointed out. "I hear old women are crotchety and eat little children."

"I'm not 'most guys,'" Thor retorted, looking disturbed by the dry comment. "My mother and father have been joined for many millennia and have yet to want a separation. They love one another very deeply, and I could not imagine one without the other."

"As if all Asgardian marriages are that way," Loki relayed. "Being married is far less appealing than it seems at the start."

"You're married?!" Steve yelled, appalled, staring at Natasha as if she was about to burst into tears at the information. "Did you know about this?"

She shrugged, the information, while unknown to her before, didn't seem that shocking in retrospect. Nevertheless, it was definitely something that she was going to have to ask him about when they were alone. She felt suddenly betrayed - why had he never told about being married? It definitely seemed like something that ought to be mentioned in a relationship. "It doesn't matter right now."

"Unless you're committing adultery by cheating on your wife!" Steve pointed out, still looking quite horrified.

"Rest assured, Rogers - my marriage to that woman was broken off long ago."

"Back to the mission!" Natasha growled impatiently. "Loki has his scepter; we should probably get that out and ready to go so that Maria doesn't have to wait for us when she gets here. Which, I'm assuming should be rather soon, right?"

"I suppose so," Steve admitted, somewhat unwilling to abandon the topic they had been discussing. "They're taking the jets and stuff - probably the whole Helicarrier. Should be here soon."

"And the Helicarrier rained Hell down upon them," Tony said in a loud and booming voice. "Alright, fine - but you never really answered the question Stars and Stripes: why is she Maria?"

"It's rude of a gentleman to speak of women in the way you are asking me to, Stark," Steve replied resolutely, staring at his compatriot with a sort of arrogance of his manners.

"Which basically translates to, ladies and gentlemen, Steve is no longer the 90 year-old virgin," Stark clarified with a laugh. Steve blushed furiously, yet made no effort to deny the claim, only solidifying the belief that much more.

"I had no inclination that you had never been with a woman, Captain," Thor remarked. "It is quite the bonding experience, isn't it?"

"Not really," Natasha and Loki commented at once, both sending surprised looks at one another. "Well…" Natasha carried on with a blush, "when it's actually with someone you care about…"

"Then, perhaps, but…" Loki finished, the room falling utterly silent as the team inspected the couple who were both making clear efforts to avoid the other's gaze as if it was the plague.

"Man, your goose is cooked," Tony said, clapping Loki hard on the back.

"Though I am clueless as to what that idiom is supposed to imply, Stark, I suggest that you refrain from ever making such an implication again," Loki smarted, pushing away the hand. "And as I've come to understand, you too are completely enamored with your own mortal, and thereby have no reasons whatsoever to lay judgment down on my relationship with Natasha."

"I second that," she hurried. Looking out the window in desperation, she could have cried tears of joy to see the familiar shimmer in the blue, German sky. An untrained eye would not recognize the blur of the clouds, but she knew it distinctly to be their floating fortress, coming in to aid. "They're here!" she yelled, putting an end to any further discussion about the team's various love lives.

Steve ran out of the hotel quickly, Agent Maria Hill emerging from a black SUV, sunglasses hiding her sapphire blue eyes from the world. Steve went to her side immediately, though not to welcome her with affection, but with details of their violent plan. She listened carefully, nodding as they made their way back into the hotel and back up to Stark's room.

As she entered, she gave a curt nod to them all, eyeing Loki suspiciously. "I hear that Agent Romanoff and you have decided to try your hands at a relationship," she mentioned, now staring over the plan on the table. Her voice was that of disinterest, making them all question why she had even bothered to bring it up in the first place. "Director Fury is unaware of this development between the two of you, and if you are hoping to remain on his good side, I suggest that you make every effort to keep the extent of your situation hidden from him." "You know?!" Stark squealed while Natasha and Loki merely sent their glare to the presumed culprit, Steve.

"The plan seems good," she stated, ignoring Stark's outburst completely. "When were you planning on enacting it?" she asked, turning to Steve.

"When would you and the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D be ready?" Steve rounded. "We're ready to go now, if you want?" he suggested.

"No, not yet. Fury will want to scope out the terrain and take a closer look at where Schmidt is," she disagreed. "People need to gather their strength."

"When can we expect to head off then?" Banner asked.

Maria shrugged. "Marching a full scale attack in broad daylight may be what we did in this last war," she said, sending a glance to Loki, who didn't falter under the accusation, "But we are in a very popular area of Germany, and there are many people here who we don't want to get caught in the crossfire. The council isn't as far away from battlegrounds as they were the last time, and the last time, I'll have you know, they sent a nuclear missile. If things don't appear to be going our way, they could very well induce a similar situation again, this time without a portal to dispose of the bomb. Fury's last intention is for civilians to get hurt. I imagine that he will try to subtly clear the people out of the vicinity before the battle actually begins, to save lives."

"And what would Schmidt do if he knew that the city was being evacuated?" Thor pointed out. "From what I have to understand, Schmidt is a very knowledgeable fiend and would realize when something is amiss. I simply worry that if he notices that the city's population is suddenly draining, he would assume the worst, take the Tesseract and run with it. And then we would be left right where we started."

"Well, there was already a serious clearing out when the hotel was bombed," Tony mentioned. "I think a few thousand families took their kids and hightailed it. Not to mention the people who were here on tours and vacations."

"Are you suggesting we create a faux terrorist attack and hope that people get the hell out of here, and pray that Schmidt doesn't notice something's up?" Natasha asked crudely. "He was the one to bomb that hotel - I'm sure that if somewhere else in this city were bombed, he would know that it was for some specific cause."

"Maybe he would think that it was a retaliation bombing?" Banner prompted.

"Schmidt doesn't know we have that kind of firepower though," Loki quickly disagreed. "It would do us ill if we gave away the punch line too soon."

"I agree," Natasha chimed in.

"Of course you do," Stark sighed.

"Either way, it will take time for Fury to deliberate what it is that he wants to do before we attack," Maria interrupted, getting back to the question at hand. "In the meantime, I suggest that you all leave the hotel and return to the Helicarrier for further preparations. If Schmidt is unafraid to attack a hotel, I'm not sure that that puts the seven of you out of harm's way just yet."

"Seven?" Steve asked, counting the team. "There's six… Oh, you mean Agent Barton too…"

"Of course," Maria answered tersely. "Just because Hawkeye is no longer assigned to the recollection of the Tesseract and battle against Hydra, does not mean that he is to be left here. There are other missions that he could attend that would still benefit S.H.I.E.L.D."

"However, if the world goes to hell tomorrow, those missions will be pointless," Loki pointed out.

"You saying that you want him back on the team?" Banner asked, surprised. "I thought that you would be the first to be lined up to kick him out."

"He was awfully quiet when we told him that Barton was dismissed…" Stark trailed off.

Loki stood nervously in his spot, feeling the inquisitive gaze of everyone in the room, especially Natasha's hard green stare. She had just fought for what the team wanted, somewhat against her will, all for Loki's efficiency, and now she was learning that he perhaps didn't want what had been suggested. "As much as it pains me say," he started, avoiding her eyes. "He has heart. There was a reason why I abducted him from your clan of misfits. He's good at his job, and with the formidable army that we are to face, it would not be so terrible to have an additional person on our side. An Avenger, no less."

"But you've been constantly bashing his abilities from the get go and calling him worthless and egging him on," Steve argued.

He sent a glance to Natasha, her lips were currently pursed tightly, and he could see doubt and anger in her steely green gaze. "Natasha," he whispered, reaching for her.

She swiped the arm away haphazardly, leaving the room and slamming the door loudly. "Dude, she's so mad…" Stark pointed out.

"Thank you so much for stating the obvious, Stark; I had no idea that she was furious as hell with me. Thank you for the insight," Loki growled, leaving the room to go after her. He knew for some reason that she wasn't going to be in her room. And even though she was livid with him, he also was confident that she had left the room with the knowledge that he would follow and try to talk to her. There was the possibility that she had gone to Clint, just to rub it in his nose that she could be cruel that way too. The thought alone of her going there stung him, and he took pause to breathe deeply, steadying his nerves.

The only other place she could have gone would have been his own room. Hoping desperately that that had been where she had run off to, he charged down the stairs and headed to his room, finding her collapsed outside of his door. Her knees were pulled to her chest, and her head rested against one of her hands. "Has this all been some big ploy?" she asked him, eyes closed.

"No, I truly do despise Barton, love," he hurried, taking a seat beside her. He wanted to touch her and comfort her, but he knew that that would only infuriate her further. "The only man that I can truly say that I hate more would be Schmidt, for all that he's done to you."

She chuckled darkly. "I'm not sure if I should be happy with that answer or hit you for it," she commented, finally leaning her head back on the wall and staring up at the florescent lights on the ceiling. "So, you think that he should never have been thrown out of the Avengers?" she asked.

"I wanted him to be thrown out of the Avengers," he corrected. "Should he have been dismissed remains to be seen. He is a formidable opponent, and I know that he could have done spectacularly in this upcoming battle. Quite honestly, I was hoping that he would perish in it." She glared at him heavily, tears sparking in her eyes. "I know that I shouldn't think such things - he is your friend, and you care for him. And it is my duty as your lover to support your decisions. But we aren't exactly what one would identify as the perfect, rule-abiding couple. And I also know how much you despise it when I keep secrets from you."

"I told him that he couldn't be with the team because of you," she said harshly.

"And I appreciate that, love -"

"Stop calling me that!" she yelled, her fists smacking down on the patterned carpet. "I defended you! I told him that you made me happy and that I would never feel something with him because I felt something for you! And you go and make a fool out of me! Not just for Barton to see, no, but for the entire team to see! I, for once, let emotions get back into my life, and you use them against me!"

"Natasha, I would never -"

"And then, I learn that you're married!" she continued, standing up from the floor now and beginning to pace in front of his door. "Something that you've never once told me, and believe me there were times when that conversation would have been appropriate to bring up. And you bring it up in front of the entire team, and make me look like a whore who's sleeping with a married man!"

"I told you, it's over -"

"And I have to go on and pretend like I knew all along that you were married when it's tearing me up inside to know that there was some other woman, a goddess, was on the receiving end of your affection. That you once claimed to love someone enough to vow to spend the rest of your life with them!" She was sobbing, face contorted in anguish as she rambled on. "Before me!" she finished with a yell, turning her back on him and hiding her face into the wall on the other side of the hallway.

Loki was surprised by the outburst, never once expecting her to think so strongly of him. He was terrified of the damage that he had caused her at that moment. He had always known that he was very deeply invested in their relationship from the moment that it had started, and he was convinced that he was even in love with her. But never in his mind had he thought for once, that she saw him as anything but a good sex friend. She had been the one to say that love was for children.

Unsure of any action he ought to take regarding the helpless woman with him, he stood from his spot, tears in his own eyes, and walked softly over to her. Tenderly, he touched her hair, feeling devastated when she swatted the appendage away. "Natasha, I'm sorry," he whispered. "I truly had no inclination that you would have been so disrupted by the fact that I was married for a time and -"

"Why? Because you thought, 'Here's a whore. She's probably slept with dozens of married men, and hasn't cared. I don't even have to bother telling her that I was married. She doesn't have a soul like that.' Right? Because, thank Odin, I'm not your average mortal woman. Because an average mortal woman would care about something like that, right?"

"You're not a whore, Natasha," he said. "You're -"

"I don't want to hear it," she chastised, pushing him back. "I only came back here because I needed to get my stuff out of your room."

His heart clenched painfully. "Our room," he corrected nervously.

"We're going back to the Helicarrier; this room doesn't belong to either of us," she said. Relief cascaded over him in heaps. "But, even if we weren't going back to the Helicarrier, I would be back here to retrieve my things," she paused. "I should have known better than to allow myself to be vulnerable. I should never have given you that control."

"What are you saying?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper as he hung on her every word.

She blinked angrily at the tears that were pooling in her emerald eyes. "I can't let myself get hurt anymore, Loki. Just open the door so I can get my things."

"You're leaving," he stated, his heart in his throat. "You're leaving the relationship."

She nodded, looking down at the carpet. "Please just open the door," she begged.

Claws scraped at his insides as he comprehended her words. He wanted to scream, to yell in her face that her leaving him wasn't allowed. That she had to stay. That he loved her, for Odin's sake! That his heart was in her care, and she had no right to abuse it the way she was. That he didn't care if love was for children or not, it was how he felt, and he knew that part of her felt the same. And she couldn't let that part of herself fall to the wayside.

But all of the convincing words fell in his throat, scratchy tears taking their place and oozing out of his eyes, blurring his world. Wordlessly, he took out the keycard and swiped it through the lock, opening the door wide for her to walk through. She barged into the tight quarters, ran to the lonely corner with her things, shoving in the few articles of clothing laying on the floor back into her duffel. The bathroom accessories were last to go, clinking of plastic sounding like knives in his heart to him.

Loki merely sat on the bed, unable to do anything but listen to her leave, door closing behind her.

His Natasha was gone. And this time, he was sure he couldn't get her back.

* * *

**So sad! Oh gosh, this had never meant to happen, for the record. Once together, always together was how I always saw my story going. But, my fingers decided something completely different apparently. I am soooo sorry, everyone! Rest assured though, the problem will be fixed, and they won't stay apart for long! *crosses heart* I solemnly swear though that she won't go running to Clint to get payback though. That would be taking it too far.**

**Oh another note, what do you guys think of Steve/Maria? Hope it doesn't seem too outlandish or improbable. I think they're cute together.**

**So, since it is Spring Break, I was think that I would do that one thing I did a couple weeks back - as soon as I get ten reviews FOR THE CHAPTER, I would post again. So, this could be tomorrow; this could be next Saturday. It is up to you. So, for the next update, we need to get to 139 reviews. Let's do it!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**

**PS: Hooray for longest chapter ever!**


	19. Love is for Children

_**Chapter 19 - Love is for Children**_

**So, I cannot believe you guys! Getting to ten that fast, my goodness! Barely enough time for my fingers to stop twitching! Haha, just kidding - I ADORE you ALL! Everyone who reviewed, my love goes out to you for eternity! Got a lot of feedback about the last chapter, and it seems that everyone agrees with me and wants Nat and Loki to get back together. Well, we shall have to see how it all pans out, my lovelies. **

**Nevertheless, I will say that there was one reviewer - I won't mention who AT THIS TIME, cause that would give everything away - but they hit the nail on the head! My goodness, it was like they read my mind on what was going to happen! Down to the minutest detail! Good on you, my friend! How did you know?!**

**Anyways, here we are at 145! Only 5 more reviews and someone gets a one-shot! Can't wait to see what you all are thinking about for this next one. And rest assured - same thing will happen at the 200 review time. Not sure if this story will go on for that long, but I have thoughts…**

**I'm getting ahead of myself - let's get back to the story!**

**MAKE SURE THAT YOU READ EVERYTHING! I KNOW THAT SOME PARTS MAY SOUND REPETITIOUS, BUT THERE IS NEW WRITING SPACKLED IN SO READ EVERYTHING! **

**Disclaimer: I solely own Nicole and no one else… Though I would be enthralled to make a trade? What do ya say, Marvel? Is she evil enough?**

* * *

She was resolute on the outside, confident in what she had just done. It only made sense. There hadn't been any way for the two of them to really have something that was worth pursuing. Though they had discussed it before, and though she had claimed that happiness should be exploited whenever possible, she couldn't allow herself to continue down this fretful spiral. It was easier before. When she wasn't in love with him and her heart wasn't at risk for getting broken. Before, it had been just for companionship. But now, her soul was on the line, and she didn't like it. She was sure that Loki never felt the emotions that she was. He didn't look at her beyond anything more than a friends with benefits situation, she was sure. Or that was what she told herself. Because she didn't deserve to be loved like that. It would be some ancient rule of the universe that a monster like herself wasn't allowed to be loved, or love someone in return. It was stupid.

Natasha sat aboard the Helicarrier, staring at the stratagem board, twine wrapped around little pushpins that colorfully dotted the corkboard. Photographs of Schmidt framed the sides, pictures from the forties and from now, each picture more menacing than the last.

Her mind was trying to focus the plan that she was about to undertake. It was the mission, and the mission was the most important right now. The indescribable pain that was currently tearing at her insides wasn't what she should be thinking about. Disregard the pain, focus on the task at hand. Emotions would only slow her down, would blur her thoughts and make her more vulnerable in the upcoming battle. But try as she might, the only word that was currently coursing through her tumultuous thoughts was Loki. The hurt look that didn't leave his face as she packed her things and left him in the room. He looked devastated. He had always said that he had abandonment issues, and she had only been there to push them along further.

"I must speak with you," she heard, thick, Asgardian accent coating the harsh and threatening tone of the masculine voice. Turning around, she beheld the elder brother, blond hair pushed behind his shoulders and armor positively glowing with menace. But the dark blue eyes caught her attention quickly - narrowed and angry with their beholder.

"Thor," she breathed, partially relieved that it hadn't been the younger brother coming to antagonize her. She was already torn to shreds as it was, and she knew that with one look from Loki, there would be nothing that would stop her from returning to his arms. "What?"

"If you were not a woman, be assured that I would inflict pain upon you right now," he growled, sitting down next to her. She immediately directed her gaze to the board, trying to appear busy with Schmidt. She didn't want to talk about this with anyone, not even Thor. "Look at me when I speak to you, woman," he snapped, spinning the revolving chair around to make her face him. The fierce look on his face rivaled that of his brother's, and she flinched at the words. "What have you done?" he demanded, fist clenching around the rims of the chair.

"What are you talking about?" she asked meekly.

"Was it because of what I said?" he asked, voice sounding less angered and more broken. "You could not accept the idea that my brother is in love with you? Or was it the thought that you were beginning to return his love that made you scared? I told you explicitly of his encounters with the opposite sex, and these warnings and advice went right through you, didn't they? They didn't even register? Or perhaps they did, and all you wanted to do all along was ruin my brother? Swallow him up so that he was surrounded by you and then you spit him back out, leaving him to his own defenses. You are nothing but a slimy, rotten woman." Tears began welling in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to keep them from falling. "You expected something else from me?" he asked, seeing the tears. "Thinking that perhaps, I would side with you and say that you were right to break his heart the way that you have?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "He's leaving Thor," she muttered, the root of all of her actions. After all of this, Loki was gone like dust in the wind. And he would never come back - she'd never see him again. "I can't let my heart be taken like that," she confessed, feeling perhaps like Thor would truly be the only person in the world at the moment who could understand her dilemma. "He's leaving, and I'll never see him again. When we started this… I don't know, I never thought that it could escalate to something like this. I didn't want it to. I thought that it would just be something to pass the time. And then, I hear about him once having a wife, and everything just hit me. I felt so jealous! Of a woman who he never even saw anymore! It got so real at that point, and I couldn't keep going."

Thor appeared to be more thoughtful as he digested her words, maybe understanding her actions a little more. "Why did you not tell him as such?" he asked. "He thinks that you hate him for keeping these secrets from you and for not desiring Barton to be removed from the team?"

"I don't care that he didn't want Barton to get taken out," she rushed, running a hand through her hair. "I mean, it doesn't make sense, and I suppose I wasted my time on a conversation that didn't exactly need to happen, but I don't care. Yeah, I wish that he had told me about that other bitch before today, but… He doesn't know the extent of my background romantic history, so it makes sense that I don't know all about his. That's just the way it is."

"Again, why didn't you simply say that you couldn't bear to lose him when he left?" Thor asked.

Natasha sighed shakily. "I couldn't tell him that without telling him the extent my own feelings. And I'm not ready to make a confession like that," she explained.

"You are in love with my brother?" he surmised, raising an eyebrow in speculation.

Natasha stared at Thor, feeling her head nod against her mind's will. The grin that broke out across Thor's face was priceless, and he truly didn't look anything like the Asgardian soldier that seemed to have a death wish for her when he approached her. "Well, I've already spoken with you about Loki's true feelings regarding yourself." He paused. "Normally, I wouldn't wish to tell of Loki's secrets; they are his to tell, but given current circumstances, I think it would be beneficial for you to understand. He was married to a woman named Sigyn. She bore two children, sons -"

"He's a father?!" she yelled, now feeling even more insecure.

"He hasn't spoken with his children in years. Sigyn, loved him in her own way, I suspect -"

"This isn't helping, Thor," she interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest of his story. The bile in her stomach was already churning to point where she felt confident that she was about ready to throw up.

"But she never wanted Loki," he continued, ignoring her sudden stress. "She had desired to marry someone else, and Loki, being himself, desired to cause mischief. He manipulated Sigyn into believing that he was her lover, marrying her before my father. When my father discovered the scandal, it was too late to do anything but have Sigyn accept her duties as Loki's spouse. I believe that it was then that Loki lost interest in her. There was a great amount of time that he spent away from her, often terrorizing me, in fact."

"Are they still married?" she asked nervously, deathly afraid of the answer.

"It is common belief that she's dead," Thor answered. "He didn't mourn much, if you are worried about this…" he drawled, looking at her carefully.

"So, he's just after the chase?" she suspected.

"With the women he has been with, yes. But it is obvious that it is something different where you are concerned. I've never seen him the way he is now. Natasha, he loves you."

She shook her head violently, looking down at her folded hands. "That doesn't change the fact that he's leaving. And it doesn't change the fact that I'm stuck here," she said harshly. She heard Thor sigh in disappointment and then walk away, leaving her to her devices once more. She felt tears enter her vision once more, and this time, they were too quick for her to stop instantly. Hearing Thor's words stirred her deeply, and she was unsure if it was for the better or worse. On one hand, it never was a bad thing to know that she truly was the only woman in Loki's mind, and her reasons for being jealous were unfounded. Then again, now she didn't have her reasons as to why she had abandoned their relationship. She could have said before that she was protecting herself from getting hurt by him, and now what? Destroying her chances of ever being happy? With probably the only being in the entire universe who understood her like he did?

The alarm started buzzing through the rooms, and she frowned, knowing now that any chance of speaking with Loki about the day's events were gone. It was time for battle, and battle wasn't the place for emotions. She ran back to her room, wrapping her widow's bracelets around her wrists and slipping her guns into her holsters at her side. It was time.

* * *

Loki's mind was like a whirlwind as he clambered onto the sleek looking train. His Asgardian clothes clung to his lithe form, a feeling that he had missed, he found. The scepter's magic trickled into his palm as he clutched the weapon, its power soothing his nervous muscles.

The Captain and Thor were already on the train, Thor having blown a magnificent hole for the three of them to slide into on the locomotive's ceiling. "How far from the base are we?" he asked the Captain, trying his best to stop the infinite amount of insults regarding his costume from flowing from his thin lips. Odin knew that he would be right to say them too.

"We've gotta go through a tunnel," Rogers said. "It should be soon."

Loki nodded, moving to the side of the car, looking out the window at the snowy abyss beneath them. "That's quite the fall," he commented.

"Let's just focus on the mission, alright?" Rogers demanded, bristled by the statement.

"Touchy subject, eh?" Loki predicted with a chuckle at the soldier's blue glare at him. Thor stared at him with disapproval shining in his older eyes. "Oh, relax," Loki said dramatically, looking back out the window. "Just a bit of fun, is all."

"Falling into a canyon, to your death, isn't fun," Roger's retorted.

Loki merely shrugged, staring at the snow capped mountains, though the thought of falling wasn't what really was on his mind. Natasha…

He had pushed away the anguish, at least for now. The team didn't need an emotional nutcase to contend with, besides Schmidt. Why he even bothered following protocol here, he didn't know. He was a god, and they so pointedly weren't. He could do whatever he wanted, and he could use his godly status to get away with it. Their silly mission wasn't important to him - it never had been. It had always been her. And now that she had left, what more was there for him to do?

Kill Schmidt? His mind offered obviously. Though the soldier was determined to make this job his own, Schmidt had made his attack personal, and it resonated with Loki in the foulest of ways. Attempting to kill him, for starters, making Natasha scared, and then abusing her the way he did. The German deserved to die, and Loki was set on being the executor for the evil tyrant.

The darkness of the tunnel enveloped them quite suddenly, and Loki blinked away the tears that had accumulated in his ice blue eyes. He hadn't even felt them there to start with, and yet there they were.

Sniffling, he watched as Thor and Rogers pried open the side door to the train, the beginnings of the factory starting to take shape. They needed to be quick, and they couldn't allow any of the Hydra agents to see them before the time was right. If everything had gone according to plan, this factory's men should already be pressed to the front of the facility, fighting off Natasha and her group. Gods, he prayed she was still alive and doing well.

As soon as the metallic floors came into view, they each dove off of the train, Loki's body rolling haphazardly on the floor, scraping away at the exposed skin of his uniform. Already, he could feel blood start to dribble down the side of his face from the impact. It would heal soon.

They moved stealthily through the area, hiding their tall forms behind stacks of crates, none of them taking the time to investigate what lie inside. They already had a good guess, anyways. Weapons. Nevertheless, as soon as they would abandon one hiding spot, Loki would be sure to vaporize the weapons. While he and his brother were immortal in many ways, Loki was sure that he didn't want to test out the Tesseract's energy when it came to them.

All at once, it seemed, they came upon Schmidt's small company. Red Skull looked less frightened than any of them would have preferred, but they carried on nonetheless. Thor's attack seemed instantaneous as he leapt from their hiding spot, taking on the various Hydra members. The goal was to find the scientist. While killing them wouldn't necessarily stop Red Skull from fully executing his plans, they knew that a dead scientist would slow things down a little.

Casting a cloaking charm over himself, Loki ran out into the herds of people, noticing Steve throw himself into the battle, the shield's signature clanging reverberating through the facility. Loki continued on his path however, sneakily tripping several different agents when they ran too close to him for comfort. He needed to find the Cube and then get out.

Spotting Schmidt begin to make his retreat deeper into the mountain, the younger god followed, blood boiling in his system as he continued to approach him. The man who hurt his Natasha was walking there in front of him.

Trying desperately to hold onto the mission and retrieve the Cube, he continued to follow his nemesis until they came to a control room of sorts. It was bathed in an ethereal, blue glow, a small podium like stand erected in the middle, a lazily spinning cube inside. There is was, the fruit of his wanderings.

Schmidt continued to stalk up to Tesseract, pressing an array of buttons until a cylindrical container popped out of the podium, the Cube only barely jolted from its lackadaisical spinning. Smirking in delight, Loki walked boldly up to his opponent, a well aimed punch going directly into Red Skull's jaw. The villain was knocked backwards, left to clutch his wounded face in astonishment. He looked around him with sudden fear, brown eyes wide.

The tubular container rolled down the grated floor, and while Loki could have easily made an illusion to envelop the Tesseract and then pick it up, that seemed far too simple for the God of Mischief. Still shrouding the Tesseract in an invisible cloak, Loki stalked up to his alarmed prey, kicking him harshly in the gut, earning a loud grunt. "Your stupid whore was right," Loki growled, dragging up his opponent, head butting him back to the ground. "One cannot commit to the terminated status without a body."

Wide brown eyes only seemed to grow in size, increasing the pleasure that Loki was feeling. "Who are you?" Schmidt asked in an anxious whisper.

Loki laughed, materializing in front of the man. "You should be paying homage to me, you pathetic man," he started, bending over to grasp Schmidt by the lapels of his leather jacket. Agents instantly converged on him, but with a simple flick of Loki's wrist, all of them were slung-shot backwards into the wall. "Why did you first seek the Tesseract, huh?" he asked. "It belonged to Odin, didn't it? The jewel of his treasure room, and my there are so many treasures locked away there, aren't there?"

"So, you're a sorcerer," Schmidt mocked, as if trying to downplay the severity of his situation.

"Oh, much more than that," Loki snapped, throwing him back down to the floor, punching his jaw. "Some have called me the God of Mischief, of Lies, even Evil. But to you, I'm your executor, and all you need to know me by is that."

Schmidt seemed appalled with the realization, but it didn't last long until the opponent fought back, a fist driving its way into Loki's gut and startling him with the sheer power of it. It rivaled that of Steve's, and while Steve could be defeated, this man seemed much more formidable.

Nevertheless, Loki would not back down from this challenge, and directed his blows perfectly to Red Skull, earning significant hard blows in return. Blood had begun to seep out of his nose, and if there was a speck of blood on Schmidt, it was unidentifiable by the tainted color of his blood red skin.

After what could have been hours, a loud blast was heard, blowing a gaping hole in the mountain's side and causing Loki's lithe body to fly through the air through this hole. He landed on his back, the air completely knocked from his lungs and causing his breath to be labored. Schmidt's agonizing accent wasn't in his ear, and when he took a quick survey of his surroundings, he noticed that Red Skull was not there with him. Perhaps his body hadn't been blown to the same site, but it probably wouldn't have sent them both to the same area if he had been blown off.

Finally catching his breath, he stood, dusting off the rubble from his attire.

* * *

Natasha fought skillfully, legs twirling in mad circles to wrap around her victim's next, laying them low on the ground. A clumsy looking man weakly aimed his gun in her direction, firing. She threw her limber form into the air, dodging the blue, deathly spurt of energy. Once she landed, she deftly kicked away the gun, dropping her body low to kick upwards into his diaphragm, cracking the tip of his sternum and lower ribs. Smirking at the howls of pain the man emitted, her own gun's familiar pop was drowned out amidst the battle sounds, killing him.

A harsh kick was delivered to her back, sending her falling forward, but she landed on her hands expertly, spinning herself around to look at her new attacker.

"Still haven't learned to never turn your back on an opponent?" Nicole's sly voice said.

"Fresh out of drugs?" Natasha remarked, throwing her body forward to stand toe-to-toe with the petite blonde.

"I don't need the drugs to kick your ass," Nicole retorted. With another grunt, the blonde's small fist darted out, catching Natasha in the jaw. The spy allowed Nicole the hit, as well as the next, carefully increasing her ego as she began to think she had beat the Black Widow at her own game. Natasha let her body fall back so that Nicole could linger sinisterly over her form. Nicole drew a long knife, ready to plunge it into Natasha's heart.

With a smug smirk, Natasha swiped away at the knife before wrapping a flexible leg tightly around Nicole's neck, smacking her own forehead against her foe's. Stunning her attacker, she lifted her other leg up, kneeing her in the gut. Another expert twist made the blonde's small body glide through the air, landing on a piece of rubble. Natasha's body sprung up easily, watching the fallen opponent. Natasha gazed on as Nicole attempted to stand, but Natasha was too quick. Her foot snapped out, kicking Nicole directly in the face and sending her, once more on her back.

"You were right," Natasha cooed as she straddled Nicole's body. She grabbed both petite wrists, holding them high above her Nicole's head while her other hand latched onto Nicole's neck, squeezing tightly. "Turning your back is wrong," she continued, her face inches from the other's. "Lucky for me, I'm better than you either way." With that final word, Natasha watched at Nicole's face turned steadily bluer and then to a purple. She struggled, naturally, but Natasha was too strong, keeping her in her place. Just as she was taking her last breath, Natasha released her hold on the neck, giving her enemy a flicker of hope.

Nicole inhaled sharply, color slowly coming back to her face. "Can't take a life?" she whispered in a hoarse voice.

"I'm the Black Widow," Natasha remarked playfully, picking up the discarded knife. "I like to play with my food before I eat it." The knife drove through Nicole's ribs, straight into her heart. Nicole's mouth dropped open, eyes wide as she made a quick glance down to the weapon sticking out of her chest. After another second however, the light had left her eyes, and Natasha withdrew her knife, smirking with a delightful satisfaction as she climbed off of the blonde.

Her victory was short-lived however, when another explosion sounded off from the factory, and the next thing she knew, her body was flying through the air, out of the mountain and into tall, brown grass, laying at someone's feet.

He was standing above her, as always, a malicious grin plastered on his becoming face, and all she could feel was terror. The golden twist of his horns glittered in the sunlight, green cape gliding through the air behind him like demon's wings. His pale hand reached out to her collapsed form, and she closed her green eyes, unsure of what she was awaiting for.

He firmly grasped her upper arm and hoisted her to her feet to stand beside him. His blue eyes looked to her in what she could only identify as concern before gazing out to the world in front of him.

It was then that she saw the flames. Everywhere, everything burning. The whole town - the whole world - was set aflame, and in the distance, through the haziness of the smoke pluming into the darkened air, there was a man. His look was even more stupefying than Loki's, brown eyes glaring with delight at the devastation he had caused. The glow of his red skull shone, and it was clear that as their enemy stared at them that he had won.

Natasha whimpered at Loki's side, and he looked down at her with his ice blue eyes. "We are going to die," she stated, watching as Red Skull weaved through the flames and began to approach them. Capturing the Tesseract, it didn't matter. Everything came down to this moment, their enemy approaching them, looking greedy and confident as he did so. Like there was nothing that could be done to stop the burning. And both of them were beginning to realize this to be true.

Loki said nothing, something that surprised her greatly, for he had always seemed to have something to say. Her shock was only magnified when he boldly took her into his arms and pressed his cool, smooth lips against hers. For a moment, she remained still, unsure of what her next action needed to be. She had left him, and this shouldn't be happening. She wasn't allowed to love him, and she shouldn't love him. It was wrong on more levels than she could count.

But after that moment, she succumbed to him and returned the kiss, never seeming to be able to be close enough to him. She threw aside the helmet, tangling her hands into his dark hair, perhaps scratching painfully at his scalp, though he didn't seem to care. His own nails were digging painfully into her waist, maybe drawing blood but she didn't notice. All that mattered was this man kissing her, and the undying love she felt for him. Though they had had their rough patches and their screaming matches and bouts of physical abuse, she had never been more confident in their relationship than at that moment. She loved him, and while the world was burning to ashes around them, she had to make sure that he knew that.

"How sweet," a man interrupted, German accent thick and calculated. They broke apart, Loki coming to stand in front of her, taking a defensive stance. "Lovers' goodbye?" he mocked.

"Do not tell me that you do not feel envy," Loki's smooth voice dictated. Natasha froze as she listened to their exchange. There was something gravely familiar about their words, and then their kiss they had shared just before… A memory of sitting on the couch in their hotel room floated through her mind, how she had described her dream and what had happened.

"_I won't let you die alone, Natasha. I have to be there to be the one to kill you, don't I? I'm your murderer - how can you die without me present for that?"_

_Natasha laughed loosely, reaching up with her spare hand to brush away the tears from her eyes. "Still intent on killing me, Immortal God?" she teased, her green eyes once again gaining that spark that he adored so much._

"_Just as intent as you are on killing me, Mortal Woman," he responded properly, bumping her side playfully, and getting a fierce shove in return, making him laugh merrily. _The first time she had ever felt truly connected to him before, and she knew that there was something far greater than companionship between the two of them.

"Perhaps," Red Skull agreed with a shrug, snapping her back to reality. "However my only emotion at the moment is curiosity. Which would hurt more? The Black Widow watching the only man who has ever understood her die? Or Prince Loki of Asgard watching the woman who has made him whole again die?" Natasha cast an uneasy look at Loki, surprised that Schmidt even knew who Loki was.

"_I died." _She needed to tell Loki! And then pain unimaginable clenched in her gut. She gasped and looked down at her Black Widow suit, seeing the thick blade of a knife protruding from her front, blood dripping from the silver tip. Whoever was behind her to stab her twisted the weapon, carving out more of her body. Blood crept its way into her mouth, its metallic taste familiar from past battle wounds. But this taste was slightly different: she could taste defeat. Death. Loss… She should have seen it coming - that she knew very well, having the prophetic dream running through her mind and all. But the sharp blade had still struck her with surprise.

"No!" she heard Loki exclaim, catching her right before she fell, just as she knew he would. Oh, the first time she had been touched by those perfect hands…_She was expecting cold, clammy hands to take the folder from her, but instead, she was touched with warm, smooth hands. The surprise difference of her expectation was her reasoning for the shiver that trickled down her spine._ She heard the snap of someone's neck, and then smelt Loki's calm and soothing scent. Old parchment. The smell made her smile briefly, and she met his eyes with the bravest gaze she could muster. "Natasha, it's going to be alright," he cooed, sweeping her red hair from her face.

"Yes, I do believe I made the right choice," Red Skull announced in a smug voice. "Can't you see, Widow, just how much this god cares for you? With a silver tongue that can say just about anything, and he lies for your dying comfort? It's pathetic!"

Loki continued to look at her, and she felt tears spill into her vision as the pain continued to increase. "It's okay," she murmured, reaching up with a weary hand to hold his face, feeling his own tears. She needed to tell him. She couldn't wait another minute. "This was my dream," she said softly. "Before, just before we went back to New York. I hadn't died alone," she continued. "I died in your arms."

"Don't say that," he hissed, holding her close.

"I just wanted you to know…"

"I'm your executioner, Natasha! Not him!" he yelled, the tears falling on her face.

"Still intent on killing me?" she asked playfully, trying to hide the pain that was gradually building. It wasn't concentrated in her gut anymore, all of it oozing into her body, making every crevice and patch of skin ache with defeat.

"You can make it through this," Loki bantered, shaking his head in denial before resting his forehead on hers.

"You see," Red Skull continued. "With you dead, Loki's purpose ends. You were his reason to live, and now… nothing."

"Come on, you big baby," Natasha chuckled. "Don't you dare give up just because of me."

He chuckled lightly in response. "I have always been a child, haven't I?" he asked.

Again, the words should have come as no shock to her, but it hadn't mattered. The heartfelt words still struck her deeply to the core, making every nerve positively alive. Her eyes widened, understanding the ambiguous words all too clearly. _Love is for children._ He loved her. Something that she had once so tirelessly feared, and now something that she so wholeheartedly welcomed. "As have I," she gasped, feeling relief at knowing that he would go back to Asgard knowing that he had won the eternal love of a mortal. That there was one who had not seen him as a monster.

The world became foggy in her sight, and the touch of his hands exceedingly hot, enough to make her sweat with discomfort. The pain that had long been her friend in life, had overcome all of her senses, and she let out one last whimper before everything went dark, and the touch of him was gone.

* * *

**I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS TAKING SO LONG TO POST! I swear, I had intended for it to be this morning, but time got away from me. Had to go to the salon and got 8 frickin' inches lopped off of my hair! Crazy!**

**So sad again, right?! My goodness. But on another note, how'd you like that fight scene between Nat and Nicole? Everyone has been requesting one, and I've been meaning to write it, and here it is! I hope that it lives up to everyone's standards. I personally love it, but I may be just a twinge biased, after all...**

**Anyway, the whole 10 review thingy still applies! I'd just like to ask if I could have 24 hours to post after I get the tenth review. Takes the pressure off a little bit.**

**Oh, and we only need 5 more reviews until someone gets a one-shot! **_**Remember, you need to have an account that I can message you with! No M rated pieces, no slash. But other than that, the story is just for you!**_

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	20. Heartbreak Warfare

_**Chapter 20 - Heartbreak Warfare**_

**Hello, all! Again, my goodness, you guys are so quick on that review button! If I could give each and every one of you a cookie, know that I would! But, speaking of reviews! - SpectrumLight, my friend, you won the 150****th**** reviewer contest! I can't wait to hear what you have in store for me! Let's get to 200 so we can do it again, yeah?**

**So much feedback about the dream coming true thing! Glad that everyone seems to be responding positively to it! Makes my day!**

**Let's get on with the story already!**

**Disclaimer: Now that Nicole is dead, that officially means that I own absolutely nothing when it comes to this fic. If that isn't the most depressing thing in the world, I don't know what is…**

**And no, the chapter isn't named after the John Mayer song, regardless of how awesome that song actually is.**

* * *

He clung tightly to the woman in his arms, slowly beginning to feel her body's warmth dissipate over the ground. Even though her blood was poignant in his nostrils, sweet, soothing, vanilla wafted through his nose still, and he held her closer, unwilling to feel her go cold.

Red Skull was laughing now, but Loki didn't care - all that mattered was that she was gone. She had said she loved him, in her own way, of course. It could never be black and white with someone like her. There were repercussions and consequences to every decision she ever made, and he knew that even in her dying moments, that mentality would not fall to the wayside. She had meant every word she had said, and he knew that her love for him was real.

But it didn't matter anymore, he realized, his heart clenching painfully as the thought took hold, consuming him. She would never be there to give him that smug smile, or bicker with him. Hel, at that moment, he would rather have her alive and hating him for eternity than have her gone.

"I'll make sure she doesn't come back from the dead like you did," Schmidt continued, Loki's tears hardening into flakes of ice on his face.

He rested her tenderly on the ground before standing and turning to face Schmidt. "Look at you," he mocked, throwing his hands out to the side. "Mighty Red Skull, holding all of the power, no? That kill was purely recreational, yes? I don't suppose that you care about your lack of humanity? Or that you are nothing but a coward? What a victorious kill that was."

"What is she to someone like you?" Schmidt asked proudly. "A god, and yet you mourn the loss of her? Why? You are infinitely above her pesky little life form."

"Like I am above you?" Loki added, arching an eyebrow. Schmidt paused, a flash of fear appearing in his eyes, but he made quick to try to cover it up. Hiding things from the God of Lies - typical mortal mentality. Thinking they were better than him. "Oh, yes, you didn't honestly think that I would find you as my equal, did you? I've read all about your perverse and arrogant nature."

"I'm confident. Arrogance is different," Schmidt quickly disagreed.

"I think by the mere fact that you thought yourself capable of interrupting me without quandary would prove that arrogance rather nicely," Loki carried on, smirking. "A desire to rule the world, yes?" Loki asked, turning to the expanse of flames around him. "Quite the world you're adopting, isn't it?"

"And you just came off of trying to do just that, didn't you?" Schmidt snapped, patience obviously wearing thin. "How can you proclaim yourself better than me when you were just defeated in your own 'rule the world' scandal?"

"I'm a god, you dull creature, that's how," Loki retaliated. "You may be old for this planet, but I assure you, my craft has been around for centuries." His hand whipped out with speed, knocking the tyrant in the already caved in nose, causing him to fall backwards. "And I suggest that you show your elder some respect," he continued, casting another cloaking charm over himself with a smug smile.

"This is cheating!" Schmidt yelled to the air, drawing his gun from his holster and pointing it threateningly at the air.

"God of Mischief, no? Punishment to fit the crime, as I see it," Loki purred melodically, staring down at Natasha's crumpled form, the blood finally stopping its drip from her stomach wound, anger stirring in his stomach at the sight. "You kill her without merit, and she is ten times better than you. Forgive me; I see no other alternative." The gun fired in his direction, missing him by inches. "Quite a good shot," Loki remarked, sidestepping to avoid the next hit. Inhaling, Loki expanded his sorcery, creating duplicates of himself, all surrounding Schmidt. One powerfully kicked Schmidt in the side. "Oh, to torture you," Loki drawled, one of his duplicates picking up the gun from his hand. "Just as you tortured me…" He watched with amusement as Schmidt spun his legs out around him, knocking the other Loki to the ground with a thud. Schmidt straddled his creation, a knife coming from his belt to stab the Loki in the throat. The look of victory appeared on Schmidt face as the blood spattered onto the dry ground. The real Loki clapped on in approval, watching the other Loki fade from existence. "You should be commended," he continued, having yet another duplicate send a well timed punch to Schmidt's gut. "Fighting an invisible opponent cannot be easy… I have never tried it myself, but rest assured, I'm sure I excel at it far more than you."

Loki's smile grew as he drew one of his small knives, tossing it deep into Schmidt's femoral artery, the tyrant dropping to the ground completely. "Show yourself!" Schmidt demanded.

Loki finally dropped the illusion, kicking Schmidt hard in the face, and then bending over to dig his thumb into the wound in his opponent's leg. The howl of pain sounded like music in Loki's ears, and Loki tore further at wound, feeling the warm red blood drip onto his pale fingers. "She meant more to me than any world ever could, you disgusting bastard," Loki growled. "I fell," he admitted. "And I was lucky enough to have someone like her catch me. And what of you?" Schmidt tried desperately to land a punch on his victim, but Loki's hand caught the weakening fist with ease, twisting it roughly, breaking the wrist with numerous little pops. "Were you never warned of the Tesseract, puny mortal?" he murmured into Schmidt's ear. "Someone of your stature could never be worthy of its true power. It rejected you 70 years ago, and you thought it wise to play with it more? It flew you above this world - heh, quite the opposite of falling, yes? And you thought that you wouldn't need catching or saving? Tell me, how is not arrogance? Humans have always been beneath you, haven't they? Always too dimwitted for your big and bright ideas of how the universe really functions. A King amongst stupid blades of grass." The blood had completely covered Loki's pale hand by this point, and it was clear that Schmidt's seconds were limited. "And yet it will be them who defeat you. Call them what you will. But Natasha Romanoff was more than a human, more than you. She's more than many of the gods up in Asgard. That's what she is to me." Loki watched as the light faded from Schmidt's brown eyes, the red of his shiny head becoming duller and more wrinkled as it fell back onto the dirty earth.

Loki stood from his victory, the tears finally starting to fall now that he had faced his threat. And once they started, he found that they wouldn't stop. He crawled over to Natasha, feeling her cold skin upon his bloody hand as he stroked her face. Alarmed with the blemish he created, he quickly tore a piece of cloth from his cape, washing away the red on her face tenderly, as if to preserve her lost beauty.

The limpness only pushed his tears further over the edge, and now, it was heart-wrenching sobs and cries that tore out through the night. She may not have been young by Earthen standard, but she was almost a child in his eyes, still so much life that had yet to be lived! She must have known that her line of work was dangerous and that she could possibly lose her life, but it didn't matter.

He threw his head up to the sky, crying loudly and praying to Odin that Heimdall could hear him. His father should know the pain that he was feeling! Everyone in the bloody universe ought to be learned of the pain that he was feeling!

The flames of Munich had died away, and the shooting and clanging was coming to a gradual halt, but Loki's cries droned on in the night.

"_So, um, where is Asgard?" _

Loki sobbed further at the words as he remembered them so innocently coming from her mouth. It was only fitting, he supposed now. Their real first outing together, where he first started falling in love with her, and here it was that she met her untimely death. "It's there," he sobbed, pointing to the sky, clutching her tightly in his arms. "See it? The brightest star, Asgard is near it." She said nothing. She would have said something, he thought tragically. She would have been curious and would have wanted to know more. "You were right when I said the things I did," he continued. "It was a very cliché description of my home. The palace," he started, having the urge to tell her all he could, as if she could still hear. She would like that. "Is completely gold, looking very much like one of your Midgardian pipe-organs, tallest in the sky." She would have laughed. "My room, as to be expected, is completely covered in books." She would have asked what the books were about. "Well, they're of everything one could ever dream of wishing to know. There are history novels of all of Asgard's great wars, there are crime novels, there are even novels detailing the kinds of trees that are growing in the courtyard. And of course, the spell books; very important for the God of Mischief, you know." He would have expected a chuckle.

"Loki?" he heard, and the tears started up again as his brother's voice drew near. "Is that…?"

"He killed her!" Loki yelled. He could feel his brother draw closer to his grieving form, but Loki pushed him away. "Don't touch her!" he shouted. Thor ignored the harshly given words, crouching down beside his brother and resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "She loved me," Loki choked out, begging for the green, wondrous eyes to open.

"I know," Thor soothed. "You are lucky to have the love of someone like her. And I think that she was equally lucky to have your love in return."

"Schmidt's dead," Loki announced, hearing the others begin to approach. "I killed him."

"We can't find the Cube," Maria's calm voice said.

"Fuck the Cube," Stark interrupted, dropping down in his worn suit to stare at the fallen diamond in Loki's arms. "It doesn't matter," he continued.

"Loki, I'm so sorry," Steve comforted. "She was one of the most incredible people I've ever known, and she will be missed."

"Please leave," Loki begged.

"Can I see her?" he heard a timid voice ask, approaching them warily. Loki recoiled with her tight in his arms, looking astonished by such a question. "Loki, I'm a doctor," Banner pointed out, and Loki reluctantly loosened his hold over her, laying her back down on the dead grass. The doctor quickly moved to investigate the wound, pausing to look at the others. "Leave. Just Loki." Loki's respect for the man in front of him tripled in that instant, and he watched as the others slowly retreated, going back to the wreckage. "Can you tell how long ago she was hit?" Banner asked quickly.

"Maybe five minutes," Loki answered. "Is there a chance?"

"There's always a chance," Banner assured, resting his fingers against her neck, smiling widely. "There's a pulse. It's weak, but it's there. I need to look at the wound." Banner's hands flew to the zipper of her uniform, and if it were for anything but saving her life, Loki would have been furious. But it was clear that there was not an ounce of lust in the good doctor's eyes, and it would have been impossible to hide from him if he had any desire for his fellow Avenger.

"Does that mean that she's alive?" Loki asked hopefully, watching her face now, as if her green eyes were going to snap open at any minute.

"Her extremities are cold," Banner mused, touching her arm faintly. "We're going to lose her if you don't do everything that I tell you. Do you understand?"

Eagerly nodding, he listened to Banner as his hands soon became soaked in her red blood. Repeatedly checking for the pulse in her neck, Banner worked diligently, tearing shreds of clothes off of himself to tie up loose ends. "We need to move her to the Helicarrier now," Banner said. "This is as stable as she is ever going to get, and if we don't get her to a well equipped facility immediately, she's gone."

"I can teleport us now," Loki said hurriedly, latching onto Bruce's shoulder, picturing the three of them in the medical unit of the flying fortress.

Upon arrival, a swarm of white coated agents swept them away, as if they were ready for what was about to come. They rested her on one of their gurneys, poking long needles into her arms that were connected to bags of blood and bags of a water looking substance. Loki had no idea what is was that they were doing for his lover, but he knew that he had rest his trust with them if she was going to live.

* * *

The next few days were the ultimate torture for Loki, and he knew very well that Natasha wouldn't exactly be proud of his behavior. She was strong and resilient, and she could accept things far easier than Loki ever could. A dozen times now, it seemed, the doctors and nurses on board of the Helicarrier wanted to take her off of her life support. They said that the damage done to her thoracic cavity was too great, and even someone like her wouldn't be able to recover from it. But every time, Loki denied them this. It was healing, but they said quite clearly that she would be locked away in her mind for the rest of her life in something called a 'coma.'

Natasha would have wanted him to let her go; he knew that. She had done her duty, and she had helped them in this war, and her ledger was clean. But that wasn't enough for Loki Odinson. No, he was not about to let her go.

It was a strange time, though, and in his grieving, there had been some sort of… bond that had developed between he and one particular Avenger. They had gotten over their threatening in these days, and their death glares had come to a screeching halt. Neither of the men even had the energy to be jealous of the other. What mattered was, both knew exactly what the other was going through, and neither of them could condemn the other for feeling the way they did.

"Still no change?" Barton's raspy voice asked as he approached Natasha's bedside. Loki merely shook his head, pressing the back of her palm against his forehead. "It looks like she had more color," Barton noted.

"Yes," Loki agreed. "The doctors claimed that this would happen. The blood she lost in the battle depleted her color, but now, her blood has been replenished to a typical amount for you mortals."

"How's the wound?" Barton asked, looking at the heart monitor.

"It's… healing, they said," Loki said tersely.

"She'll wake up?" Clint continued nervously, staring at his long time partner with admiration.

"They don't know," Loki replied.

They fell into a silence, Loki taking a small amount of time to drip some cool water on her face, gently washing away the cumulating sweat on her brow. Clint merely watched on, no longer overly bothered by the display of affection. He had learned. And he should have known that Natasha would not have stopped seeing Loki just because he had told her to. She was never one to bow down to an authority figure, and that had been only one of many things that he had loved about her.

And he knew just as well as her that he couldn't exactly control who is was he was in love with. He had even been the one to say that it wasn't something that he could turn off or on. It was just the way that the cards fell, and he knew that it had been wrong. Work relationships, according to the cliché, were things that were taboo and shouldn't work. But even knowing that, he had loved her still, and a part of him, he learned was always going to be devoted to the redheaded agent on this gurney. His first love, but maybe not his last. Hawkeye didn't need a relationship to keep himself happy, but maybe it was Clint Barton who had a desire for companionship. If someone like Loki, a monster in every sense of the word, could find love somewhere, then who was to say that he himself could not also find love somewhere?

"If she wakes up -" Clint started awkwardly.

"When she wakes up," Loki corrected automatically, looking up from her face to give him a look. "She will wake up. The doctors are uncertain, but I am not."

Clint shrugged. "She loves you," Clint carried on.

Loki sighed, looking down into his lap as the damp washcloth in his hands. "I am aware," he breathed. "It still surprises me to think of such a thing. After everything that she has been through, and me as well, it's surprising that anything like that could happen between two such people."

"You love her, right?" Clint asked, staring at the god carefully.

"If there was ever a time for that term to apply, I can guarantee you, it would be now," Loki assured him, then a sudden look appeared in his blue eyes. "Did she say as much? Before the battle?"

"She said she didn't know if she did or didn't," Clint answered truthfully. "That's how I know she does," he simplified. "Nat's always hated the thought of love, for as long as I've known her. Thinks that it isn't real. If she even had to ponder that she loved someone, meaning that she would have to accept that it existed in the first place… it's just obvious that the one who changed her mind about love would be the person she would fall for."

Loki smiled softly, looking back to the woman. "She changed me far more than anyone else I have ever met," he spoke. "I hate to think that I changed her, but -"

"It was for the better," Clint rushed. "I've never really seen her so… alive."

Loki's smile widened as he stared at her, reaching to run his fingers through her hair delicately. With a sudden idea, he stood from his seat and kissed her forehead gently. "I'll be back," he said to Clint, abandoning the medical area and out onto the bridge of the Helicarrier. He approached Director Fury with easiness, though the look in his brown eye was hard and unforgiving as he stared at Loki. "I need a ride down," he announced to Fury.

The brown eye squinted, and dark hands rested on his hips as he stared Loki in the eye. "And what in hell gives you the impression that I give a fuck about what you need?" he retorted. "Because, as I see it, we still have a powerful weapon of destruction still lurking out there in the fucking Alps, and because you're all incapable of fawning over Romanoff and assisting my team at the same time, you think that I am going to permit you to go back down there?" he rambled.

"That… was a very long negative answer," Loki said lightly. "But nevertheless, I do need a ride down," he carried on with a smile.

"Are you going down to retrieve the Tesseract?" Fury asked.

"I personally think that I have done your planet a service. It is cloaked, and now, you won't have an issue with tyrants coming to steal your planet away anymore. Unless you are worried about unemployment for your Avengers, then there really is no reason for you to be cross with me."

"That power source is what is keeping your ass down here. And excuse me for not wanting your ass down here anymore. You've overstayed your welcome," Fury retorted simply. "Unless you get the Cube on your little trip down there, I'm not permitting you to go on any kind of field trip."

"Well, I suppose that the ride was simply following protocol," Loki said sadly, hunching his shoulders. "I was hoping for your approval, but I didn't need it. I'll be back soon," he finished cheekily, his body fading away in a green glow as he descended to the surface.

Upon arrival, he looked up at where he supposed the Helicarrier lurked, the reflection panels efficient in their job. He knew that Fury would be… well, furious when he would go back up, but those were just details for a god like him. The important thing was, he knew that Fury wasn't going to send a team after him to reprimand him. Fury made play that he hated Loki, but the young god was confident that there was a part of the feisty director that found Loki's company sickeningly enjoyable. And he could live with that. It wasn't his affection Loki was vying for.

Walking through the desolate town of Munich, he frowned. So much destruction for such a small place. Not at all like New York, where the devilish work was confined to only several blocks. Here, it was a whole city that was brought to the ground. It was a change that Loki had never really noticed about himself until now. Never before had he cared for the lives of these petty humans. They couldn't offer anything spectacular to him; then he met Natasha, who quite literally opened his eyes. He learned that while, naïve and stupid, they were capable of the same emotions that he was. They felt love, and hate, and envy and happiness. So, while he wasn't protecting their thoughts or their stupid brains, he would guard their emotions and their hearts. Because Natasha did, and they were the same.

He rushed to one of run-down gift shops, staring with sadness at the livelihood that was ruined. This shop owner, whoever he or she was, no longer had this business. Ignoring the pang of solitude, he traversed to that lonely back of the store, right in the corner. He stared fondly at what he saw there. Carefully, he picked one of them up, turning it in his hands. Loki had never understood her fascination with the silly knick-knack, but as he stared at it, he could easily see how simple it was to become mesmerized with it. He watched as the fake snow fell on the little Alps, right into the depths of the little town. Deciding it wasn't the right one, he continued to search the various little snow globes, finally coming upon one that seemed perfect. Digging around in his pocket, he found some of the stray money he had left there from their mission. It wasn't a lot; he knew that, but he hoped that it would cover the collectable.

As he was about to teleport back to the Helicarrier, he paused, frowning. He may not like Fury, but he knew that he had a sort of obligation to recover the Tesseract. It would have been what Natasha would have wanted him to do. He could just hear her beautiful voice now, scolding him about how important the mission was, and she wasn't in a hospital bed for nothing. He knew that would be what she would want him to do, but he felt like he had been away from her long enough already. She could wake up, and he wanted to be there for her when that happened. She would just have to accept the fact that she was always going to be more important to him than some mission.

Nodding to himself, he teleported himself back up to the Helicarrier, close to the medical ward. Walking in, he could have sworn that he felt his heart come to a screeching halt inside his chest. Nurses and doctors all hunched themselves over her bed, a dull droning sound coming from her heart monitor.

The next moment seemed like slow motion to him, but he could still feel his heart rate kick back in with a vengeance, taking over his entire body. He could hear the blood in his ears as he rushed to her side. Every stride made him feel a million miles further away from her, and he hated it. Tears stung at his eyes and he finally reached her side. His gaze swept to her stomach, expecting a blossom of red on the hospital gown, but there was nothing there.

"Loki, you can't be here right now," he heard one of the lady nurses declare, giving him a gentle push away from the gurney.

The touch didn't affect him in the slightest, and he felt his blood boiling. "What is wrong?" he demanded, now looking up at the heart monitor.

"We don't know; but we can't do anything until we have enough space to bring her back," the nurse continued.

"I want to know what's wrong with her!" he yelled, finally meeting the gaze of the nurse. "You will tell me what is wrong with her!"

"As soon as we find out, and as soon as she's stable again," the nurse rushed with a nod.

"She's crashing," one of the doctors said, another doctor taking out a pair of paddles and rubbing them together.

Loki found himself pushed back, and he watched with terror in his eyes as they pressed the paddles to her chest, making her whole body levitate for a split second before crashing back to the gurney.

The gift forgotten on another empty hospital bed, he ran his hand through his hair, taking to pacing in front of the scene. "You need to leave the ward, Loki," the nurse said, however didn't move from Natasha's side as they tried to bring her back.

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured them, staring solely on her paling face.

Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like hours to him, and it wasn't long before they stopped their work completely. The doctor grasped his forehead sadly, looking up at the piping on the ceiling while the others looked at her with disbelief. How could the infamous Black Widow be dead?

"No, you can't stop," Loki hurried, coming back to the gurney and pointing at her. "She's not dead; you can't stop!" he yelled, giving a shake powerful enough to a nurse's shoulders that he toppled backwards onto the ground.

"Call it," the doctor said.

"6:05, time of death," the nurse said, staring at their watch.

"No time of death!" Loki screamed, hitting the doctor. "Save her!" he continued.

"I'm sorry, Loki," the nurse said sorrowfully.

Flicking his wrist, all of them flew backwards and into the wall. It was then that everyone seemed to get the message to leave, and they rushed out of the infirmary, leaving an upset Loki crouched over Natasha, sobbing.

Barton walked in later, having claimed to just hear the news. "I didn't want to believe it," he said, tears forming in his stormy blue eyes.

"Where were you?" Loki demanded, shifting his anger from the doctors and nurses to the archer beside him. "I leave her here, perfectly safe, and when I am come back…"

"What, you think that I killed her?!" Barton yelled. "I was in the training area!"

"Get out," he hissed, pointing at the door. "Before I kill you."

"I have as much right to be here as you do!" Barton retorted.

"I said get out!" Loki yelled. Barton gave her a harsh glare, but left nonetheless, leaving the two of them alone once more. Her hands were deathly cold as he cried over them, his tears bathing the pale appendages with pain. There was nothing there, and every time he stared at that heart monitor, seeing the screen black and unused, it only killed him further.

He wasn't sure how long he remained like that. It could have been hours, or it could have even been days. All he knew was that he had no intention of leaving. Several agents appeared after a while, claiming that they needed to take away her body - that even deceased, her body was a powerful weapon that could not fall into the wrong hands. Loki shooed them away, not ready to be parted with her. He didn't know if he would ever actually be ready though. How does one prepare to say goodbye to the one person in the universe that they love?

"What should I do, love?" he asked, sleep beginning to tug at the tendrils of his mind. Loki didn't want to take his eyes off of her for a second, but after a while, it became difficult, and he finally succumbed to sleep's will, closing his blue eyes to the world.

_It shouldn't have surprised him that he would dream of her. She was everything to him, and it was only right that her image would grace his dreams._

_She approached him with that smug smile that he adored so very much - his smile. He reached out for her, his hand falling through the skin of her apparition when he tried to clasp her hand. She frowned at the failed contact, but her indifferent mask appeared almost at once._

"_I assume that there's a reason you're dreaming of me as a intangible figure," she mused, raising an eyebrow at him in question._

"_I'm so sorry, love," he apologized, sitting on a park bench. Looking around, he saw the green grass of Central Park, one of the most beautiful places these stupid planet had. He saw her drop down beside him on the bench._

"_For what?" she asked. "For me being dead?" she guessed, and his head snapped up as he stared with wide eyes at her. "So I'm dead then," she surmised with a grim smile. "Did we win?"_

"_The Avengers won," he said sadly. "I lost everything," he added._

_She chuckled mirthlessly beside him, a sound that gave him pause. "You always were so melodramatic about these things," she noted._

"_Would you rather me fornicating with women now that I am released of you?" he retorted crudely, glaring at her._

"_Flattered," she mocked. "Did you kill him with magic, then?" she asked._

"_No, I stabbed him," Loki answered._

"_You didn't stop his heart?" she teased._

"_You never did tell me the spell," he retorted with a small smile as he recalled the conversation they had on their first… date of sorts._

"_Is there one though?" she asked curiously._

"_Of course there is. I just don't know it," he replied simply. "Just like I'm sure there is a spell to start a heart, but I don't know… Wait." Her face broke into a smile as soon as the thought appeared in his head, and tears formed in his eyes._

"_I'll see you soon, love. And I'll be able to touch you this time," she told him, waving her goodbye before fading into the dreamscape._

Blue eyes popped open with realization, and he stared at her cold form with a large smile. He wasn't sure how yet, but he knew that he could do it. There was nothing there to stop him. Cloaking them both from S.H.I.E.L.D eyes, he lifted her gently from her gurney, teleporting them both to his bedroom on the Helicarrier, laying her carefully down on his bed.

He then teleported back down to the surface of the Earth, looking in the wreckage of the battle. True, he had cloaked it, but he had done so with his own magic. And while he couldn't trace the Tesseract on its own, his magic left signatures amidst the rock, and that was something that could not be hidden from him. Eagerly, he swept through the rubble, heart pumping joyous blood throughout his lithe body. Finally, he came across his prize, and he uncloaked it quickly, marveling at the blue glow that the Cube emitted. He took it in his hand, allowing the power of it to seep into his body.

Destination clear in his mind, he closed his eyes, feeling the Tesseract's power shoot him upward and into the sky, feet landing on smooth marble. As soon as his eyes opened, he knew that he would have to act quickly. Heimdall would know that he had returned, and Heimdall knew very well of the crimes that he had committed in his time away from Asgard and was bound to tell the King of his arrival.

He ran to his room in the palace, careful to avoid the guards. And while his cloaking spell would hide him from the guards' eyes, he didn't want to risk detection anyways. And it would keep Heimdall off of his scent for a moment anyways.

The books lined his walls, dotting the floor in their proud towers. He trumped over to the spell books, running his fingers over the spines, seeking with his mind the spell he desired. After what seemed hours, his hands finally landed themselves on the book he desired. Dragging the Cube back into his hands, along with the book, he sent himself back to Midgard, landing firmly in Germany once more. He teleported simply to the Helicarrier, rushing to his bedroom.

Tentatively, he reached for her, feeling the skin of his fingertips fall on smooth hair on his pillow. She was still there. He hadn't been found, and she had remained hidden. Loki dispersed the spell, finding only a little solace in the fact that he could now see her again. That was only half of the battle.

Loki dodged to the little desk in the room, opening the book and skimming each page desperately for the information he searched for.

It seemed to take him hours to find the spell, and with every page he turned, he was beginning to lose hope. He knew that it would only be so long before her body wouldn't be able to sustain life anymore. He was getting scared, but he focused on his task, eyes sweeping skillfully over the ancient text. The only human invention that Asgard could benefit from: a table of contents, he thought pessimistically.

When his blue eyes finally settled on the spell, his heart's beating kicked it up to another notch, but he took no notice of it. He ran to her side, reading the incantation and directions, performing each seamlessly. The foreign language dripped off of his silver tongue, his eyes glued to his subject, the passion tumbling from the tips of his fingers to her chest where the spell took place.

Once it was finished, he sat there, waiting. He was breathing heavily, and he reread the incantation, looking for any indication that there would be a delay before she would awaken again. There was none.

The hope that he had built up for himself was completely gone by this point, and he threw the book powerfully across the room, hearing the pages crumple in pain as they hit the floor. His scream engulfed the room, and the pain tore through him like a wild animal. There was no resuscitation now. Her small body was spent and lost to him.

He leaned over her, stroking her hair tenderly, wishing that her bright red hair would spring back to that familiar bounce that he so loved. Or that her green eyes would open and give him a glare that would kill any mortal man. Anything! He would even take her hand across his face out of anger if she wanted it!

Loki's head collapsed on the bed, his shoulders quaking in anguish as his tears were made fresh on his face. She would want him to be strong. She would call him a big baby. But he didn't care.

Then, her fingers twitched.

* * *

**Yet another cliffy! Gosh, I seem to be favoring those way too much, huh? Oh well, hopefully though that should quench you guys for a little while. I think it's kinda obvious whether she lives or not, so be happy!**

**Sorry that this took so long to get up here. I have been writing it for a while, and it was just one of those chapters that was really hard for me. All of my other chapters are fully of Nat and Loki interaction, and that's kinda been the backbone for the whole story. So, this one was trickier since she was down for the count there.**

**I am also sorry to say that the next update won't be until next Saturday, not tomorrow Saturday. Spring Break is practically over for me, and believe me, I'm grieving just as much as the next teenager out there. But I'd still love to hear from everyone as to what they thought of the chapter! How'd you guys like the Schmidt/Loki face-off? I enjoyed writing it, to say the least. :D**

**Again, congrats to SpectrumLight for being the 150****th****! Leave me a review for this chapter and tell me what you would like to see in your one-shot, my friend! Can't wait! I will get that up though within the next couple days though, rest assured! Let's get to 200, yeah?**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books **


	21. Alive and Breathing

_**Chapter 21 - Alive and Breathing**_

**Aah, hey all! Missed you guys! Thanks to all of you who took the time to review! You guys are so sweet and amazing - got some of the greatest readers ever, right here! :D**

**So, things, as you can imagine are going to start winding down, however, I still have thoughts in mind for this story, and while I could finish this one and create a sequel, I was thinking that I would just continue on with the same thread. That way, everything still flows and isn't lost. Not to mention, we're only thirty reviews away from the big 200, and I didn't want to ruin anyone's chances of getting that. :D Nevertheless, let me know what you think - if enough of you really want me to finish this one and start a new one, I guess I could do that, but it's gonna take a lot of convincing!**

**Also, I posted the last contest winner's one-shot just last night, so if you guys want to check that one out. Promise that this one isn't heavy on the tears this time! Just a cute, holiday centric, Easter fic with our favorite group of superheroes! It's called "Easter with the Avengers" in case any of you want to look it up.**

**I'm sure you guys are tired of hearing me ramble, so we'll get back to the story!**

**Disclaimer: *yawns***

* * *

_And then, her fingers twitched._

It was a movement that Loki was terrified he had imagined. There was only so much pain that even he could endure, and he watched with intensity at the pale digits, willing them once more to twitch. After ten seconds of nothing, he had been sure that Fate had simply wished to humiliate him and torture him further, and his tears only strengthen. Then, he heard her gasp loudly, seeing her body jolt upwards as it came back to life. Her hand went up to clutch her throat, as if willing it to grow larger for more oxygen.

Loki's tears faltered, and he stood from his seat, placing his hands on her shoulders tenderly. "Natasha?" he asked, almost afraid that she would push him away without knowing him.

She blinked rapidly, the most beautiful pink rushing through her skin. She then reached to his hands, clutching them tightly. "What happened?" she asked with a hoarse voice, looking up at him. Shrieking with surprise, his arms engulfed her tiny body, unable to be close enough to her. "Loki!" she exclaimed, uneasily hugging him back. His mouth covered her own instantly, once again surprising her, but she quickly responded to the kiss, feeling as if it had been years since they had kissed. In the back of her mind, she remembered their argument, and how she had broken up with him, but that didn't matter. She could remember being in front of Red Skull, the knife driven through her gut, and she can remember how she told him that she loved him. In her own words.

"I thought you would never wake up," he said as he pulled away, fingers running through her hair and lips pressing on her neck.

There was something about the way that he said that gave her pause, like he had thought she would die. Admittedly, she truly believed she had on the battlefield. "Why am I in your room?" she asked, observing her surroundings and only feeling more confused.

Loki froze mid-nuzzle. "The doctors thought it best that you be with me," he excused, and she instantly saw through the lie, pushing him away from her and giving him a harsh look. He refused to meet her gaze, only increasing her worry over what he wasn't telling her. "You're fine; can't that be all that matters?" he pleaded.

"How am I fine?" she demanded. "I distinctly remember a knife the size of a cleaver sticking out both ends of my body." She looked down at the once offended area, eyes widening in terror to see and feel absolutely no hint of damage. Still clothed in a hospital gown, she pulled the loose fabric away from her body, looking for the invisible wound. "And now, it looks like nothing happened," she said, looking harshly at Loki once more. "What did you do?"

"You were in a coma, yes, I grant you that," Loki hurried, reaching for her hands. "It was the worst time of my life, I assure you -"

"Stop being a kiss ass and tell me what you did," she interrupted, watching his thin lips squeeze together as he thought over the command. His blue eyes were as calculating as ever, and she could see the cogs turning in his head as he thought through every possibility and end-scenario. "Please," she added in a nicer tone, determined to get the truth out of the God of Lies.

"I wasn't lying when I said that you were in a coma, Natasha," he breathed gently, and no matter how closely she stared into his eyes, she saw no hint of a lie there. "You were barely alive. Dr. Banner helped bring you to the medical ward, and he as well as several other doctors have been your caretakers. They claim that because of the serum, the knife wound healed faster than it would normally for regular humans," he relayed to her calmly. "The doctors believed that they could do no more to better your health and therefore permitted me into bringing you here until you would wake. They recommended that you rest for as long as possible before performing any strenuous activity."

"There's something you're not telling me," she said, eyeing him.

Loki shrugged with indifference, but she saw a quick flicker of pain flash through his eyes, and he promptly looked away from her, hiding the untruth. "We won," he supplied, and while she was confident that that wasn't all he was being vague about, the news drug her thoughts from her current health status and back to the mission. "I thought you were dead," he whispered. "I killed him - Schmidt, I mean."

"He's dead?" she affirmed, the words sounding far too excited on her tongue. Schmidt wasn't meant to be anything more than a mark, and it was wrong to let a mark get to you. She had learned that long ago - it would compromise you, taint your skill and clarity. Loki, she let into her system quite by accident, but once he had been planted there, it was evident that he wouldn't be uprooted so easily. Schmidt's significance also broadsided Natasha, though this relationship didn't prove as beneficial to the agent, rather stirring fear and naivety in her. Schmidt had made her feel like a child again, when she was weak and incapable of taking care of herself. But to hear that one of her accidental compromisers was murdered brutally by the other, it soothed her to no end. "How?" she asked, eager for information.

"Bled to death," Loki put simply. "Not after a vigorous beating however," he added with a smug smile. "I do believe that I even would have made you proud," he mentioned, seeming to be glad to speak of something else.

"Did you use magic?" she asked curiously and with a soft smile of her own.

"I didn't stop his heart with it, no. But I did use it," he assured her. A tender sparkle appeared in his blue eyes as he reached out to stroke her cheek. It had once been such a foreign glint to Natasha, the only emotion that had never seen before. But now, she felt silly for not recognizing it sooner - it was a sparkle that she was sure inhabited her own eyes whenever she looked at him. Though she had relayed the emotion to him subtly before, she never wanted so badly to say the real words now. She knew how he felt about her, and there wasn't any reason for her to hide the word from her language anymore. "I should go tell the doctors that you have woken up," he said softly. "They told me explicitly that you couldn't move, so don't even think about getting up." He stood from the bed, leaning in to kiss her gently, tongue sweeping into her mouth and making her sigh.

The look in his eyes stated his feelings quite clearly, and she knew that the words were on the tip of his silver tongue, but she knew that he wouldn't say them. While perhaps being more affectionate than she had once supposed of the menacing god, there was no way she could believe that his tongue would be that loose with his affections. He had nothing to hide from her, but saying the words took the wonder out of them all too rapidly. Words could lie, and though she knew that Loki wouldn't lie to her about his love, it meant more to her this way. Eyes could never lie, even his eyes. The love she would find there could not be any closer to the truth, and it gave her comfort that he wasn't seeming to hide the gaze.

Natasha watched sadly as he walked from his room, closing the door gently behind him and walking through the hall.

Although she loved him, she needed to know the truth. Throwing the thin sheets off of her body, she swung her legs around, setting her bare feet on the cold metal of the floor. Already, she could feel her quadriceps bracing in preparation for the movement. She pushed herself from the mattress, standing. It only took a second for her confidence to be reduced to nothing, legs collapsing underneath her weakened form. She landed on the metal roughly, the muscles in her stomach groaning with protest at the sudden movement. Her wrist ached from landing on it wrong, but she pushed the pain away, sitting on the floor tiredly. Her back fell against the side of his bed in defeat. She knew that moving was now out of the question for her, and she would just have to wait until Loki returned to help her back up.

Grumbling in dissatisfaction, she decided to try once more before she saw a crumpled looking book tossed away on the floor. Loki wouldn't leave books like that. It was a clear and simple fact that anyone would have been able to realize upon meeting him. Neat and clean. So what would cause him to leave a book lying there like that?

* * *

Loki's strides were long and powerful as he approached Director Fury, hands kneading themselves in front of his person. "You took Agent Romanoff's body!" Fury started, pointing an accusing finger towards Loki when the god entered the office. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't call security right now and have them shoot you?" he demanded.

"I'll give you two," Loki reasoned with a smile. "One: guns can't kill me, so getting the others to shoot me would do no good. And two: Natasha's alive."

Customary to Fury's stoic style, he sat there in his leather chair, focusing intently on Loki with his one good eye. He set down the pen that he was holding and stood, leaning over the desk threateningly. "Are you fucking with me?" he asked in a harsh whisper. "Romanoff is dead. Got the reports myself from the medical ward." He picked up the file on his desk to prove it, slamming it back down again. "And you come in here, like the psychotic nut-job you are, telling me that she is breathing at this very second?"

"Essentially," Loki agreed with a nod. "However, I have one request -"

"You're in a mighty shitty situation right now to be requesting anything," Fury interrupted, looking skeptically at Loki, eyeing him from head to toe.

"I brought her back with magic. Your doctors were right; she was dead for a time. I found one of my spell books, executed a spell, and she is alive once more," Loki explained briefly.

"How the hell did you get a spell book?" Fury asked, now looking more curious.

"I went to Asgard, naturally, to find the proper one in my collection," Loki said obviously.

"Without getting caught?"

"I'm the God of Mischief, Fury. If you honestly think that I haven't perfected my enter and exit routes into the realm without being detected, you are sorely mistaken. Regardless of that information, the point of the matter is, is that she is alive. But I do not plan on relaying to her that she was deceased, or that she was healed with magic. She has conferred to me that she does not desire to have magic worked upon her, and while I find the notion preposterous, I find the idea of her being angry with me upon awakening sour and unpleasant. I will tell her the extent of her previous conditions at some point in time, but I would prefer her to regain her optimum health before I tell her such a thing."

Fury remained silent for a time, looking at the manila file of Agent Romanoff. Finally, he sat back down in his chair. "I admit, hearing that she's alive is… better news than I could have hoped for. I know what you think of me and my methods, but… I see her as a daughter of sorts. Hearing that she didn't make it caught me off guard and it hurt. I can't imagine what it did to you."

Loki started and stopped almost immediately, looking nervous in Fury's inquisitive gaze. "She was my partner yes, but -"

"For the God of Lies, you are terrible at hiding a relationship," Fury mentioned dryly. "Be better off hiding a nuclear bomb… Steve let it slip," he admitted, Loki rolling his eyes. "Anyways, fine, you get your request. I'll have the doctors make up a new chart for her, and I'll keep the actual one. Just keep her in your room while I inform the rest of them to keep it on the down-low." Loki nodded gratefully, turning to leave. "But," Fury added strongly, Loki's shoulders slumping in defeat. "Only for a week. If she doesn't know by then, I won't give a shit about what she'll do to you; I'll tell her. Understood?"

Loki nodded once more, finally leaving the office and heading back to his bedroom.

Opening the door, his eyes found Natasha sitting, legs widespread on the metal floor against his bed. However her choice in reading material quickly caught his gaze, and he snapped his head to the place where he had discarded the spell book, realizing that this was what was currently in her hands.

"How'd you get this?" she asked upon his arrival, looking up from the yellowed pages.

Gulping, Loki chuckled nervously, "We ransacked Hydra, and we found that. Me, being the magical expert on this vessel, they left it in my care."

"And it as left on the floor like you had thrown it," she pointed out, turning the page. "This isn't even in German," she added, looking confused.

"Schmidt was studying my mythology, and he had texts on it. Our believers originate in the Scandinavian countries, so it wouldn't be German," Loki pointed out. "Why are you sitting on the floor?" he asked, trying desperately to change the subject.

"But I speak most of those languages, and this isn't that either," she carried on, ignoring the question and looking at the pages.

"Perhaps an old dialect?" he suggested, realizing that he wouldn't win the argument. If she couldn't read the book, then perhaps there was no harm in her looking at it. And the whole spell book wasn't specifically goaled towards reanimation of lost loved ones.

"Then how can you read it?" she bantered as Loki came to sit next to her.

"Who do you think taught them it?" he retorted, watching the realization dawn on her face.

"Sometimes I forget how old you are," she said quietly, fingers running over the course paper. "Your people and culture. You've been around for thousands of years, and we've been around for so much less. We talk like we're better than all of you, but, you're right. We're beneath you."

"And here I was, just starting to think that even the lesser lives are no less beautiful," he mocked, kissing her temple gently. "You all may not be capable of the thoughts that my people have, but we feel the same things. It's - how did I put it? - basic sentimentality." His hand meandered into her own, feeling a calmness wash over him at her touch. To know that she was alive, to feel her skin actually respond to his own and know that it wasn't going to go away.

Natasha instantly picked up on the change in his mood, allowing him to play meaninglessly with her fingers. So fascinating the small hand seemed to him, but she knew better than to interrupt the moment. All the pain she had witnessed upon awakening swept over his features once more, like there was a poisonous thought eating away at him. Reaching to cup his cheek with her other hand, she caught his gaze, seeing the tendrils of tears tearing at his composure. "You really were scared," she observed. He closed his eyes, sinking into her hand, allowing her to steal a kiss from him. His lips instantly reacted to her own, abandoning her fingers to play with her hair.

"I've never known fear like that, Natasha," he whispered against her lips. "I implore you to never do that to me again."

"What if I had died?" she asked, stroking the angular cheek. Again, pain settled over him, his eyes like glass, as if he wasn't even looking at her, rather through her. "What would you have done?" she posed the question delicately, curious of his answer, but unwilling to hurt him more.

"I would have found some way to bring you back," he told her shakily.

"You would use magic?" she surmised, seeing a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes that confused her.

"I would do whatever needed to be done," he said firmly. "And if that meant magic, then magic would bring you back."

She scoffed, "You wouldn't do that. My body has been tampered enough, and I don't allow you to use magic with me."

"Don't be so sure," he warned.

"I would hate you," she pointed out.

"I wouldn't care," he retorted with such passion, she paused, staring at him. "Natasha, I would rather have you hate me with everything in your body than go a single day knowing that you were gone."

"I would die hating you," she said, finding her voice hoarse and throaty with oncoming tears.

"I'm not good enough for you anyways."

"That's childish," she remarked, looking away from him. "I would have thought you to respect my wishes and leave me dead. What's dead should stay dead."

"And I'm practically the King of Selfishness," he said bluntly. He reached around to make her face him. Taking a steadying breath, he said quite soulfully, "I love you. I know that you hate the word, and I hate it too, but not for the same reason. It's a word that is tossed about so easily today, and no one seems to really understand the depth of the emotion. Its definition has become mutated and simple, and when I thought you dead, I felt my own soul die away with yours. My fate rests on yours; it's like I'm tethered to you. I don't want to imagine a universe with you not in it, and even if that meant you hating me, I would at least be able to go to bed knowing that you were safe and breathing."

She smiled. "You love me?"

"Is that really all that you heard?" he yelled with exasperation.

Her smile only doubled its size. "It's just a strange concept to think of, that's all."

"Why because a monster is in love with you?" he asked roughly, looking hurt.

"No because a god is in love with me," she argued. "And because I'm in love with him." She laughed heartily, her head falling on his shoulder. "It's kinda ironic. That I'm taught this concept by someone who hates it."

"And I went through the desire of hating mortals and you end up being a mortal," he added. "I think it's also called poetic justice."

He ghosted his lips over hers again, wrapping his arms around her waist and gently pulling her to her feet, setting her back on the bed. The book fell from her lap, landing back on the floor, but neither of them paid any heed to the soft thump. Her own arms weakly went around his neck, successfully gluing his lithe form to hers. "You have no idea how much I've missed you," he whispered.

She quirked an eyebrow up teasingly. "Show me?" she asked playfully.

"You're still weak," he said nervously, pulling back, but she quickly secured his hips between her legs and gave his neck a squeeze with her arms. "Natasha…" he warned.

"I'm fine," she assured, leaning to kiss his pulse point, hearing him give a groan in approval. "Didn't you once say that you shouldn't refuse the cripple anything?" she reminded, hands tangling in his hair as she gave the sensitive skin a testing lick, smirking smugly.

"Standing up isn't comparable to what you're suggesting," he groaned.

"You said anything, Silver Tongue. That's your fault for not being clear enough for my mortal mind to understand," she retorted. "Now, why don't you put that silver tongue to good use?"

Loki shuddered with anticipation, surrendering and claiming her wicked lips for his own, sinking into the throes of passion.

* * *

Covered in a shiny sheen of sweat, Natasha felt his thin lips tenderly peppering kisses on her shoulder, her back pressed securely against his chest. He had been doing this for five minutes already and didn't seem inclined to stop any time soon.

She let him carry on with his affections, knowing how difficult it must have been for him the past couple days. Watching her supposedly die and waiting helplessly for something to be done to save her. And as much as she desired to believe his word of innocence, there was a part of her that was wary. He had said it himself that he wouldn't hesitate to employ magic in order to save her. And while she was very much entranced with his magic, she could already feel her skin crawl with the thought of magic being used on her. The Russian government had infiltrated her body and turned it into something unnatural and inhuman, and she hated the feeling. It wasn't like Loki where he was a god with a mortal appearing form, but there was piece of her body that didn't belong to her. It was fake and implanted and changed her entire makeup. It scared her to think that his magic could have a similar effect on her. That her beating heart wasn't because of her will to live but his manning of puppet strings instead.

Natasha knew that he meant well, and she knew that there was some truth to the things that he had said. She could easily understand his point of view, and she was sure that if their roles had been reversed, she would have, without thinking, done the exact same thing. Through the short exposure of him in her life, she was already confident that she would be unable to function properly without him.

But that still didn't give him a right to treat her body as an object and not respect her wishes.

Luckily though, he hadn't been placed in that kind of situation, and she wasn't going to let her guard down again to be prone to this kind of situation again.

His deft fingers started grazing the length of her arm, making her shiver in pleasure. This god said that he loved her. He had decidedly given his heart to someone like her to take care of. Even knowing her track record of safety and protection, he willingly handed it to her, beating and throbbing for her. He was right when he had called it poetic justice - two of the most violent criminals with ledgers _gushing _red, as he termed, and they found solace in the other's arms. His quick-witted mind not only saw how to manipulate, but also to understand. Every qualm she had had, he understood with ease, relating to her in every way. It was almost as if she didn't even have to speak in order for him to know her thoughts.

And she complemented his soul just as well, comprehending his methods and desires. Natasha understood his background and his feelings better than even Thor, knowing his every reaction before he could even react. It was a fine tuning that the two of them had to the other, and she knew that there were times when this connection scared the both of them.

It had been because of their connection that she had run from their relationship in the first place, not willing to put her heart on the line. It had been a quickly molded decision, and little thought had gone into the consequences that would ensue after her actions. She could see his dejected and shocked face even now in her memories, perched on the bed like he couldn't understand. It had been one of her greatest regrets, and whether he had silently forgiven her or not wasn't the question. They both needed to hear her apology and her real reasoning, just like Thor had told her.

"I'm sorry for walking out on you," she muttered, his fingers stopping in their travels and lips ceasing their sweet kisses. "I wasn't thinking clearly, and I shouldn't have done it."

"Love, I can swear to you that Sigyn is no longer a part of my life," he swore. "I don't even know whether the woman is alive now or not, but I do not care of her, I promise. You couldn't honestly think that there could possibly be a woman, Asgardian or Mortal, who could win my heart as you have done so? I swear, I solely belong to you, Natasha. And I apologize for never telling you of her and making you think that she was intended to remain a secret. I had forgotten about her until that moment."

"I was married too, once," she conferred, looking firmly at the wall of his room. He fell silent, and she felt his sudden intake of breath on her back. "From Russia," she started. "His name was Alexei. Unlike you, I guess, our marriage was arranged. He was a test pilot back in the forties, working with the Soviets during the War. One day, the army told me that he had died, and that was the end of it. He wasn't actually dead, but that was the end of the marriage. I don't know where he is now, but I haven't cared for a long time," she paused. "I never loved him," she said quietly. "He's saved my life on occasion, but that doesn't change the fact that I don't love him. Clint's saved me, and that hasn't changed my feelings."

Loki was quiet for a long time, absorbing his lover's word carefully. "That brings up a question," he began, after a long minute. "Why walk out on our relationship if you were guilty of the same crime?"

Natasha blushed at the question and rotated in his arms, facing him, noses only inches apart. "I didn't care that you had been married," she admitted. "Well, I cared, but that's not why I ended it," she sighed, prepping herself for her explanation. "I ended it because I was scared, Loki. For a while, I had been thinking about how, once everything was over, you'd go back to Asgard. I'd be stuck here on Earth, and I would probably never see you again. But I had told myself that it would be okay, because I didn't love you and my connection with you, while hard to sever, wasn't impossible to do so. I would live, because that's just how I am. But then, I heard you talking about Sigyn, and everything changed in that instant. Here I was, having been telling myself that we weren't looking for anything deep, and I felt jealousy. I had felt it before where you were concerned, but nothing like that. It was so strong, it nearly knocked me off of my feet. My thought process was that if I felt that strongly over someone I had never even met, and knew you didn't even care about, I was in too deep with you. I had lost control, and, well, we've talked about that before. Fight or flight response kicked in, and I'm ashamed to say that I chose the latter without even realizing it."

"And now?" he asked urgently, eyebrows raised in question. "Now that we've condemned ourselves to loving the other, what then? I still will return to Asgard, and you are right by saying that I probably will never return. Unless our lovemaking a moment ago was merely a way of saying goodbye, then I don't see your proposed solution."

"I don't have a solution," she answered truthfully. "And maybe that was a goodbye; I don't know, Loki. All I know is that the feelings I have aren't going to go away just because you do. Even if I never see you, it doesn't matter. I'll always belong to you, even when we aren't together."

Loki smiled, kissing her tenderly. "I'm yours, love."

Nodding in satisfaction, she pushed the blankets away, sitting up the bed and staring at the floor. "Help me stand?" she asked, feeling his arms wrap around her midsection as he sat behind her. His lips kissed a love-bite on the side of her neck.

"Where'd you throw my trousers?" he remarked, hopping from the bed and searching for them. Holding them proudly in success a moment later, he slipped them on, leaving his muscular chest bare. Clasping his outstretched hands tightly in her own, he carefully pulled her to her feet. Her knees, already wobbly from the drool-worthy sight of his body, knocked together in weakness.

"Damn, how long was I in a coma?" she asked, looking down at the shaking limbs, unable to control their rapid movements.

"Far too long," he answered, frowning at her legs as they showed no signs of improving. "This is quite concerning, Natasha," he stated. "We should go to the medical ward to see one of the doctors. Perhaps there is a medication they can give to help your muscles."

"No, the serum will do that on its own," she disagreed, the shaking finally stopping as she adjusted to carrying her own weight again. "It won't take long."

"I still think that a visit would do no harm," he said uneasily, holding her hips as she tried to take a step forward, surprisingly maintaining her balance.

"Where's Fury?" she asked, reaching for his bathroom door. "I should speak with him; he's probably been worried."

"You're not hoping to go out on a mission right now, are you?" he asked, helping her into the bathtub. "You're in no condition."

"Fuck no!" she yelled, watching as he began to draw up a bath for her, testing the water to make sure it was warm. She then smiled cheekily as he reached for a vanilla scented shampoo. "Are you planning on washing me?!"

"I do believe that it is my job as your designated caretaker to provide the best quality care that I possibly can. If bathing is included in the list of job requirements, then I certainly won't protest," he teased, roughly shoving her head under the water to wet it. When she came back up, glaring at him and spitting water at him, he merely laughed, plopping the shampoo on her red hair.

"You talk too proper," she mentioned after another dunking to remove the residual shampoo that didn't happen to be flung in his general direction.

"Would you prefer my language to be that of the mortals here? Destroying the English language until it is no longer recognizable?" he guessed, washing her back.

"English isn't even your first language," she mocked. "Is it?"

Loki laughed, rinsing away the soap. "I forget what my first language was," he admitted. "It's been so long; I forget even a time where I was unable to speak. I can say that English has been in my repertoire longer than some of them. Your first language was Russian, I presume?"

"Yeah; still use it too. Right before you got here with your rule the world plan, I was actually on a mission there."

"Successful?"

"You got here too soon for me to inflict any real damage. Coulson called and said that Barton had been compromised, and here we are," she said, gesturing to his figure.

"My apologies for ruining your mission. I know how you are with those," he said seriously, but the twinkle of sarcasm was in his blue eyes.

"I should send you over there to finish it," she remarked, being pulled out of the tub and having a towel wrapped around her. "Careful though - they pull teeth."

"Obviously not very well since you have all of yours," he teased, now finding a comb and running it through her hair while she held onto the counter.

"I think I can do my own hair," she mentioned, reaching for the comb, only to have her hand swatted away easily. "It's like Barbie dress up hour."

"I don't know what that means," he said, looking curiously at her in the mirror. Finishing with her hair, he stared at the hospital gown discharged on the floor back in his bedroom. A moment later, a pair of loose sweat pants and a comfortable t-shirt appeared instead. Smiling in triumph, he brought her back into the bedroom, presenting the new clothes. She merely rolled her eyes and allowed him to dress her, having to remind him of the importance of undergarments in S.H.I.E.L.D facilities.

"You finished yet?" she asked as he finished buttoning up a long sleeve shirt of his own. "I'm hungry," she complained.

"I thought you wished to see Fury?"

"Well, I actually want to see the team, then Fury, and then food. The sooner we get done with the get-well speeches, the sooner I get food and the sooner we can come back here," she added suggestively, giving him a wink to which he only rolled his eyes.

"As unmanly as it seems, I think it would be better for you if you were to rest a while longer. You've been standing for a while already, and you're starting to shake again. I'm almost convinced that you need one of those rolling chairs with the big wheels."

"Wheelchairs," she corrected with a smug smile.

"What an inventive name," he teased, opening the door for her and slowly leading her out into the hallways, brighter lights assaulting her eyes.

She had forgotten that there were more people on the Helicarrier than just Fury and the Avengers. Other agents all looked at her in awe, but all she felt was crippled and humiliated. The Black Widow, world-class assassin and professional spy, reduced to inching along the tiled halls like the old lady that she was. It was embarrassing, and she wanted to hit the others for even so much as blinking in her direction.

Loki sighed, wrapping a proud arm around shoulders and taking some of her weight off of her legs. He could easily see her distress in the situation, and he cursed himself for not thinking of this possibility before they left the room. Surely Fury had spoken to the S.H.I.E.L.D population and relayed Natasha's condition to them and how they were meant to proceed. But a woman - no matter how invincible she was to her peers - did not ordinarily come back from the dead, and admiration and wonder were things that she was going to be unable to escape. He knew that they only held high respect for her, but he also knew that she was not going to see it that way in the slightest.

Finally ducking into the conference, Loki helped her sit in her regular seat, having already paged the others to join them there. He would have preferred they remain in his room, but she had seemed adamant about leaving the quarters for a while and walking around, even if she didn't exactly want to. Oh well, he thought to himself. She was alive, and she was stubborn. And Loki was the happiest being in the entire universe over those two simple facts.

* * *

**Yay, fluffiness and happiness ensue! I hope you guys liked it! I thought that you all deserved a treat after all of the really dark and depressing stuff that has been going on in the other chapters. Leave a review and let me know what you think about the continuation of this story, as mentioned in the other A.N at the top: would love to hear from you!**

**So, it's really late over here, and I am about to drop dead, so I apologize for any grammatical, punctuation, spelling, or any other kind of error that you may have found. I normally read through a chapter before I post, but I am seriously about ready to start drooling on my keyboard. I didn't see any spelling errors, but I may have missed one or two as I was looking through for the classic red line under my words.**

**I will get to my review replied tomorrow, so don't think that I forgot you! I know that I always reply to my account people right before I update, but I shall do that in the morning right when I wake up. I promise, so don't worry! I love you all too much to leave ya hanging.**

**And let's get to 200 reviews! Whoop, whoop!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	22. Embrace your Inner Sherlock

_**Chapter 22 - Embrace your Inner Sherlock**_

**Hey all! How is everyone? I do apologize for this taking a little longer to upload that previously expected. I was out of town for a little while this week, registering for uni classes come fall. So exciting! And scary, but I'm ready for the next adventure, I think. And then tests, and SAT crap, and birthdays to plan, and graduation things to plan, and school concerts, and my God I am pooped!**

**If you can believe it, we're actually only 14 reviews away from the next one-shot winner, so I wish you all the best of luck, and maybe we'll hit that magic 200 this time around, yeah? Let's go for it! I think we can.**

**Thanks for the great feedback for the last chapter! Number was a little low, I got to admit, and then some lovely reviewer by the same of LaughingStock reviewed practically every chapter! Thank you sooooo much, my dear! :D :D :D**

**Anyways, we can get back to the story now.**

**Disclaimer: I like to think that in some parallel universe out there, I own Marvel things, which, of course, includes our marvelous Tom Hiddleston. Unfortunately, that would not be this world, so get off of my back.**

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Natasha wrung her hands nervously on her lap, staring at the entrance to the room with disdainful silence. She wanted to see her teammates, learn how they fared in the battle, but she also wanted to run from the situation back into Loki's bedroom and away from judgmental eyes. The Avengers wouldn't go out of their way to purposefully make her feel as if she was an invalid or a miracle, but she knew that that was what was going to happen anyways. Practically coming back from almost certain death, she knew she would have marveled at herself. But she didn't want that. While being boldly beautiful and eye-catching, Natasha still favored the darker shadows, lurking and away from studious eyes.

As the steam sound of the door opening entered Natasha's ears, she braced herself mentally, feeling Loki squeeze the hand she didn't even know he was holding. Loki stood beside her, looking worried as Dr. Banner entered the conference room, punctual as always.

Natasha tried weakly to stand, Loki stunting the movement by placing a restricting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure that the doctor will understand why you shouldn't over-exert yourself," he said callously. The agent glared at her lover, pushing away the hand and standing anyways. Though she could see the disapproval in Loki's eyes, she also saw a quick flash of pride at her defiance.

"Please, Natasha, sit," Banner rushed with a fatherly smile. "I understand perfectly, and I agree."

"I'm quite fine," she disagreed curtly.

Banner's smile was soft and he moved to embrace her tightly, crunching her back surprisingly tight, but not enough to cause harm. "I'm so glad you're alive," he whispered into her ear, and she felt her shoulder become slightly wet. Was he actually crying? "You have no idea…"

"Loki said that it looked like I would die," Natasha mentioned, pulling away, watching Loki's face turn painfully sour at the word 'die.' "But, I'm just fine."

Steve charged into the room next, blue eyes shiny with tears as he stared at his friend. Just as she suspected though, his face was filled with awe that was starting to make her uncomfortable. He hugged her even tighter than Bruce did, almost enough to inflict pain. "I just can't believe it," he mused, still hugging her. "I prayed so hard, and God worked his magic."

"That's enough manhandling her, Rogers," Loki interrupted harshly, separating them and giving a dark glare towards the Captain that Natasha didn't understand. Why would he be upset that Steve had prayed for her? Could Loki really despise Christianity that much? She didn't think so…

Before she had much time to deliberate Clint's swift form careened into the room, wasting no time in marveling at her presence before engulfing her. She watched Loki's face darken, and his blue eyes turn away from the scene, back to glare at Rogers, who calmly met his gaze. Compared to the other two, Clint's arms could have snapped her in half, and she fought the grimace that was trying to make its way on her face. Loki would have demanded Clint release her, but she knew that her best friend needed this. He needed closure, and he needed to feel her life force. It was like that sometimes on their missions together. She wasn't always so affectionate with him and needing physical touch to reassure her of his liveliness. But she had grown accustomed to Clint needing it, and she didn't have the heart to push him away.

After another moment though, Loki seemed to have enough heart for them both, grabbing the archer by the collar and dragging him backwards, five feet from Natasha. "You're hurting her," Loki addressed, though jealousy was blatant in his eyes.

As if realizing that there were other people in the room besides the two of them, Clint retreated to his seat, sitting and looking down at the glass table with feigned interest. The snaky comment she had expected from her friend never came, and even his brooding wasn't so clearly portrayed. She cast a curious glance at Loki, seeing him ignore Clint and monitoring her instead. It wasn't the deliberate ignoring like the silent treatment, rather like Clint's appearance no longer affected him, and he simply didn't care. This was new, she thought, feeling wary. When the two of them weren't at each other's throats, there had to be something wrong.

Again, thought processes were cut short when she was mauled by Thor, effectively pushing the back of her legs against the table and making her hiss. She knew that he didn't mean any harm, the large smile on his face was indicative of that. Here, she actually looked to Loki, pleading with him to relieve her. All she got was a cheeky smile and an eye roll from everyone else.

"Lady Natasha, I have never been so exuberant in my life to see you alive and well as such!" his booming voice exclaimed into her ear. The swoosh of the door opening sounded once more, and an additional set of arms were thrown around her tiny body. The smell of heavy cologne impaired all of her other senses, and she heard everyone else laugh merrily at her pain.

At least this was familiar. Their care over her hadn't changed in the slightest, and each of them was attentive to her and happy to see her.

It was another minute before the two men released their hold on her, Tony's dark hair finally coming into view as he pulled away from her back.

Immediately, Loki appeared at her side, pushing away the other two and forcefully putting her back in her seat with a stern look. She allowed him that, feeling her strength beginning to drain away. "Pretty bold of you to cop a feel with Loki right there, Stark," she mentioned lightheartedly. Everyone laughed, except Tony, who turned slightly pale as Loki's dark gaze turned to the billionaire.

"Oh, you get that reference," Tony said uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks for ratting me out, Red," he said sarcastically.

"Loyalty to one's significant other is nothing to be ashamed of," Steve said heartily.

"I agree wholeheartedly," Loki added, taking a sort of possessive stance over his lover who merely rolled her eyes, too tired to push him away. His close proximity gave her comfort amongst all of their staring eyes. He had, not exactly gotten over her arrival to the waking world, but he had gotten over the shock, if that made sense.

"So, what happened?" she asked nervously, laying her hands on the table and looking at all of them. They all chuckled.

"Hasn't changed a bit has she?" Banner asked playfully. "Still mission oriented."

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked curiously, watching them all quickly look away from her. She looked up at Loki for clarification, seeing him actually looking away as well, at Banner in particular.

"No reason, love," Loki assured, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"We were worried that being in a coma would have changed your mental makeup," Clint said easily with a shrug. "It's just nice to see you woke up without any complications."

"Can that happen?" she asked, amazed.

"All the time. Sometimes, they don't even know who they are when they wake up," Banner answered, stepping into doctor mode.

"So…" she trailed off.

"Hydra's gone," Tony blurted. "For good this time," he assured her. "Blew up the entire base straight to hell."

"But there could be others," she warned, remembering WWII all too well to know that Schmidt wasn't the one-base-only kind of leader. He dispersed his pain well.

"Cut the head off, Schmidt's gone," Tony reasoned.

"And two more shall take it's place - do you know nothing of Hydra?" she demanded, rattling off their motto easily. "We shouldn't just assume that Hydra's gone."

"With all due respect, we found all of their bases," Steve interrupted with a smile. "I thought the very same, even after I saw Schmidt dead. Went and found his maps, took 'em, and burned everything else to the ground. All of his other bases have followed suit."

Hearing the Captain's confidence made her feel quite torn. Relief, because he was a Captain, and his ease over the situation couldn't help but be contracted by those around him. Anxiety lingered as well though, knowing that Steve had been confident in his victory once before, and was wrong. She hoped that he was right this time around.

"How many deaths?" she asked, looking directly at Steve.

"Over 150," he said tragically. "Hydra weapons are still above our own, what with the power of the Cube," he said.

"And what of the Cube?" she asked next, looking up to Thor and Loki. "Has it been located?"

"It was cloaked by Liar-Liar-Pants-on-Fire," Tony peeped. "And now, he won't tell us where it is."

"Loki?" She looked up worriedly at her lover, seeing his jaw clench, knowing that he was considering possibilities of talking.

"These humans do not know the power that they held," he said curtly, reminding her very much of the arrogant god she knew when they first met. Like nothing could touch him and he had all of the answers. "I would prefer that this power does not fall once more into their naïve hands. Obviously, they are unable to do anything productive and beneficial from it."

"For our credit, it's been Hydra both times something has gone wrong," Steve mentioned, sticking up for the human race. "A thousand out of billions."

"Your people were creating weapons with it," Loki snarled back. "Weapons of unlimited power. Tell me, what do you suppose the other realms would think of you once they knew of the power you possessed?" he asked.

"They would know to fear us and not try to take us out again," Fury announced, coming into the room. Natasha tried to stand from her seat, only to have Loki's hand press once more down on her shoulder. "Agent Romanoff," he breathed at the sight of her. There was a look of something other that chiefly in his eyes at that moment, a fond look that she had trouble placing. It reminded her a little of Bruce's gentle gazes, but Fury wasn't a man of tenderness. "It's good to see you back."

"My brother speaks wisely," Thor interrupted, coming to stand close to Loki, who looked appalled by the support from his estranged sibling. "You may have power, but as he stated, you do not know the limits and capabilities of it. There are other realms, far more intelligent than your own. Not to mention that they are well aware of the Tesseract and what it can do. If they were to see how it was being used by humans, they would surely think that its true potential was not being reached. You're an easy target."

"I believe the term is sitting ducks," Tony chirped, getting a loud sigh of annoyance from all but Natasha and Loki, who didn't understand the comment's significance. "But, as much as I would love to see some badass alien try to take over," he cast a glance at Loki who smiled at the term, "I think that they may have a point. But, I still think that we have a right to know where the damn thing is. Who says that we want to make weapons out of it? I think that we should study it so that we can know what this thing does. My father spoke of it to before, and even he wasn't entirely sure what the thing did. The technology wasn't right for his era, but now it is -"

"You think it is," Loki interrupted. "In reality, you are no more closer to understanding the Tesseract's true power now than you were 70 years ago."

"I wasn't alive 70 years ago," Tony said arrogantly.

"Fool," Thor said with a laugh. "The Tesseract is my father's - once the greatest treasure in his treasure room."

"Your point?" Fury asked.

"And he left it here," Thor finished. "Because he did not wish for the quandaries that the source brought with it wherever it went. If you are of the belief that you can understand it better than the Allfather, then I must tell you that you are more ignorant than I suspected. You think that you rule the universe, when it reality, you're the newest realm of them all."

"You're just coming out of your diapers, and you have a superiority complex," Loki added with a smile. "I really do not care whether this planet survives or not," Natasha knew that was a lie, "but the Cube cannot stay. We will bring it back with us when the time is right. You won't see it until it leaves."

"Is that code for saying that you have no idea where it is?" Clint asked quite suddenly, finally joining the conversation. Opposed to the normal curt comment that Clint would normally add to the situation, she was surprised to hear his question posed… well like a question. Like he really had no idea what Loki had done with the Cube and didn't have any suspicions. Something must have happened while she was asleep, and she was determined to find out what made the two of them so cordial towards the other. It scared her to think of it, even if it had been something she had wanted.

"No, I am quite aware of where the Cube is," Loki assured calmly, not disturbed by the question.

"I thought you said you couldn't trace it?" Natasha asked, looking up curiously at Loki.

He shrugged simply. "You're right, I cannot trace its power. However, I can trace my own magic. And the Tesseract is currently being bathed in my magic."

"And that bastard won't get it for us," Tony whined.

"Quite right, I won't," Loki retorted.

"What else has happened?" Natasha asked, trying to change the subject.

"Just been waiting for you to wake up," Clint said quietly, casting a glance at Loki.

"I already know what happened to me," Natasha hurried.

"Even if you did, there is no way to know what it drove the rest of us to do," Steve countered, earning looks of disgust from Clint and Loki.

The comment made the agent freeze, and she looked to Loki for an explanation. She had long suspected that there was something that he was not telling her about her condition, but it was evident that he wasn't about to spill the beans. But the way that Steve implied it, it had to have been something awful, and the harsh looks only solidified the idea. So what happened to her? Could Loki have done something with magic after all?

Eyes wide at the thought, she wasted no time in pushing Loki's long fingers off of her shoulders, staring down at the glass table instead. "There's something you're not telling me," she breathed. "And you realize that I will figure it out, don't you?" she wanted to add, but she knew that that was inferred already. She was the greatest spy the world had ever seen, and if there was something that her eyes were not allowed to see, she would find a way to see it anyway.

"You're tired, love," Loki said quietly reaching once more for her shoulder, Natasha once more shrugging it off. "It's only to be expected. It's a lot of excitement."

"I'm fine," she growled, trying to hide the real fatigue that she was feeling. After strenuous activities with Loki earlier, her muscles were aching and her eyes could have fallen shut then and there. Knowing that Loki could easily see through her charade, she allowed him to help her to her feet, including the tender arm that wound around her thin waist - woah, that was thinner than usual. She would have questioned him about why she was so much more petite, but the sweet and caring way he was holding her made her pause. A long time without having her in his arms, she knew that it was only right to allow him certain moments of silence sometimes. Sometimes. "Why am I so skinny?" she asked carefully, fighting her desire to sleep on his comforting shoulder.

"Love, you've always been thin," he replied easily.

"Don't look any different to me," Clint added, confusing her even more. Since when did Clint actually agree with Loki on something? And defend him? Over her?

Shoving his arm off, she did her best to glare at the two of them. The intimidation, she had to admit, was a little faulty, having needing to grab hold of the table in order to balance herself. But it seemed to get the message across that she was going to be stubborn about this. Neither Loki nor Clint made any moves to come to her side. "What has happened between the two of you?" she demanded, feeling a smidge of fright begin to trickle into her emotions. How could she even be sure that this was Clint? And Loki?

"Nothing," Clint answered rapidly, decreasing her amount of trust in him. "I hate him, it's all the status quo. I hate him."

"And you've always known how much I detest your stupid being," Loki continued calmly. "Love, you're scaring me; are you sure that you're alright?"

"I told you I'm fine," she hissed. She turned her gaze to Fury, looking for answers in the calming brown eye. "Fury?" she pleaded, seeing his shoulders tighten, as if in preparation. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything is fine, Agent Romanoff," Fury responded coolly. "We're just relieved to see you back in the game after so long. I'm sure that being in a gurney assisted in making you lose weight."

His words terrified her all the more. Nothing was ever alright. Ever. There was always a new threat, always something that needed to be fixed, always something wrong. How dare he even say that everything was okay, when she was positive that it wasn't? He was lying for her comfort, or he was lying to cover something up. And being the director of a covert government organization, she was placing her chips on it being the latter.

"I'm going to my room -"

"I don't think that's a very good idea, love -"

"And seeing as I can't make it there alone…" She looked through the team, seeing the hope in Loki's eyes slowly transform into doubt. "Thor, accompany me?"

Thor's golden face turned beet red, and he looked regretfully at Loki, who shrugged. Her God of Mischief proudly walked up to her side and kissed her forehead before turning and walking out of the room. Thor, still blushing, approached her warily, offering her his arm like the perfect gentleman.

As they quit the conference room, Natasha felt her composure begin to fall, worry and frustration taking over, all on top of the tiredness she was also feeling at the moment.

But she had to win. She had to know what was happening. Loki wouldn't tell; she knew he wouldn't. He was the God of Lies, and if there was one thing Natasha knew about him, it was that he was damn good at hiding things. Maybe not so well from her, but well enough. And Clint… well, he would most likely put on his mask and pretend like nothing was happening that needed to concern her. And Clint happened to be rather advanced with that mask.

But maybe the others wouldn't be so advanced? "What is happening, Thor?" she asked gently, figuring it the best way to win her information. Thor would break with the pity card.

"Natasha, I am confident that I do not know what you mean," Thor said calmly, but she saw the shiftiness in his blue eyes. He knew damn well what she was talking about, and he was trying to hide it. Amateur, she thought sneakily.

She dropped her head weakly onto his shoulder, leaning on him to the point that he was carrying the majority of her weight. "I'm just so tired," she said softly, forcing tears to the brim of her eyes. "I know how hard it must be, for all of you. For Loki, especially." Because whatever was happening, it was because of Loki, she was 100% sure of that. "How was he? He won't tell me much."

"He was destroyed," Thor said quickly, breathing a sigh of relief. "I've never seen a man in as much pain as he," he continued, his voice slowing a little. "He refused to leave your bedside. It actually reminded me much of the time when my father, Odin, needed to fall into Odinsleep. My mother would sit with him and wait until he was awake again. Loki was exactly like that with you."

"But was he emotional? I was in a coma, and at least your mother knows that your father will wake up. I could have died," she carried on, seeing his Adam's apple move in anxiousness. "What if I had died?" she carried on, sensing that she was close to her answer. "What do you suppose he would do?"

"He would never love anyone like he has loved you," Thor answered truthfully. "Loki believes that you are the only one for him. As do I. I can't imagine the things I would do if Jane were to perish." Just as she was about to ask yet another question, they stopped short. "Your chambers," Thor said with a blush, opening the door and helping her to sit on the bed. "I will see you when you are more rested." With that, he exited the room, closing the door.

Slamming her exhausted fists on her bed, she pouted. She threw herself back, looking up at the metallic ceiling. Her hand danced under it swam under her pillow, searching for her gun, frowning when her search turned up empty. How was she supposed to take care of herself with this pathetic excuse of a body without her gun? She was helpless.

Even without the security of her weapon, she felt her weary eyes close, sleep taking over.

* * *

_The sky was dark and serene, unfamiliar stars twinkling their 'hello's' and 'good evening's' in soft whispers. The wind, warm, but cool at the same time, twirled invisibly, making the tree leaves shimmer in the moonlight, and the grass to tickle her pale feet._

_Another dream, Natasha realized instantly. These stars were not hers, and everything seemed to magnificent to be seen in the waking world._

_A wide, indigo lake swayed several yards in front of her. The moonlight, nearly encompassing the lake with its wide breadth, looked broken on the surface. A white goose paddled on through the reeds noiselessly, approaching Natasha without fear._

_As its orange webbed feet landed on the sandy beach, the goose still came to her. Once it entered the grass, it changed, there before her eyes. A long, gray skirt glided in the air, long blonde hair dwindling down to the woman's hips, and a sweet, nurturing face replacing the beak and beaded black eyes of the bird. A woman._

_Natasha should have been afraid, should have tried to reach for her gun, yet she did nothing of the kind, accepting the strange nature of the animal/woman. Truth be told, she felt a sense of kinship with the woman, feeling safe and calmed by her presence._

_The woman sweet rested in the grass, inviting Natasha down to do the same. The spy followed suit, the grass tall enough to come to her breasts, but Natasha smiled at the tickling feeling, her fingers running through the blades like old friends._

"_It has been long, Natasha," the woman said gently, voice like her honey colored hair. "You wished to see me?"_

_Expecting someone else to take over her ability of speech, Natasha remained silent. After a moment of no one answering the woman, Natasha warily attempted speaking on her own, "I don't know who you are," she breathed, surprised to hear her voice drift to her ears. These dreams were too strange, Natasha figured. In all of them, she had possessed her own mental qualities, but there had always been an alter ego of sorts that would mask it, talking for her._

"_You will eventually, dear," the woman said, patting her hand. "Your journey to us is soon. I have seen it, and I am eager for it."_

"_Is this Asgard?" she asked curiously, looking up to the sky with the unfamiliar stars._

"_What do you think?"_

"_I think that this place is too beautiful to be Earth," Natasha answered with ease._

"_You wished to see me?" the woman redirected again, Natasha looking down to the woman._

"_I told you that I do not know you. How can I wish to see you if I do not know you?"_

"_We've communicated before just fine," she pointed out, but in all of her memories, Natasha could never recall a woman who could change into a goose being in her dreams. "Tell me, what troubles you so that it has been you to come to me?"_

"_So, you're normally the one who initiates this?" Natasha asked, ignoring the question._

"_Well, the gift of foresight shouldn't be overly distributed to such youth, but in some cases, I find it perfectly acceptable to break a few rules," she said with a teasing smile. "Have you found the dreams helpful?" she asked._

"_What dreams?"_

"_Please, do not be coy. You know very well what I speak of."_

"_If you're asking whether I was able to prevent my own stabbing, then no. I didn't know it was supposed to come true," she said coldly, not feeling as comfortable around the strange woman._

"_The first time is such a difficult time, is it not? And quite frightening when you realize that it was actually true all along."_

"_Could I have prevented it?"_

_The woman smiled but remained quiet. "You wished to see me?"_

"_Stop saying that! I didn't wish to see you because I have no fucking idea who you are!"_

_The woman didn't seem bothered by the dash of vulgarity, merely smiled further. "Then what troubles you?"_

"_Nothing."_

_She laughed, reaching out and touching a red curl of Natasha's. The spy tried to recoil, but found herself rooted. "You wish to know what happened, yes? To know the truth? Ah, yes, the truth. It is such a measly thing, is it not? It can be as cold and as calculating as your average lie. It can protect, and it can hurt. For a woman whose profession is deception, you seem awfully keen on being acquainted with tales of truth as well. Strange, as you are in love with the King of Deception."_

"_Do you know the truth?" Natasha asked._

_The woman smiled. "The truth. Truth has never been very good at evading me."_

"_So, you do know?"_

"_I do, dear. But telling you would be cheating. You thrill in the chase, and I would only be taking that away from you. Your resources are limitless and there is not a book that can hide what you seek. All you need to do, is know in which book lies your answer."_

_Natasha's eyes widened, an image of Loki's discarded book on the floor popping into her mind. "He won't read that to me," she pointed out._

"_No, he most definitely will not," the woman agreed. "Dear, you know much I adore visiting you, but you must go now. Can you no hear him? Beating on your door. Reign in your temper, dear. He loves you too much to be treated poorly."_

* * *

Green eyes opened at the sound of knocking on her door, and Natasha blinked several times, hearing the knocking become only more furious. Rolling her eyes, Natasha stood slowly from the bed, thoughts of her dream still plaguing at the tendrils of her mind. Who was she? What did she know? How did she know Loki? How could she know the future? How could she give Natasha these dreams?

Natasha opened the door lazily, meeting the frightened eyes of Loki. "What?" she grumbled, turning from the door and walking back over to the bed. She heard the door close behind him and his lithe form sit beside her on the bed.

"I was worried you were…" he trailed off, looking pale.

"Dead?" she clarified tersely, hearing him whimper a little at the word.

"I was knocking for a while, and you would not answer. I grew worried," he mentioned.

"Well, I'm obviously not dead."

"I wanted to see if you wished to go to the cafeteria and eat something now? You had said that you were hungry," Loki suggested sweetly. "But if you wish to sleep, that is fine."

The growl of her stomach made her wince, but it made him laugh happily. "Food, I guess is the general consensus," she answered, glaring down at her gut.

"Maybe we can have more spaghetti and meatballs like in that dreadful movie you made me watch," Loki teased, helping her to her feet. "Or perhaps something else? What other classic movie meal could there possibly be?"

His sweet tone made Natasha smile, and she had no hesitation to rest her head on his shoulder, snuggling under the arm wrapped around her shoulder. "What is the food like in Asgard?" she asked. "Do you eat goose?" she asked curiously, pulling her head away to look him in the eye.

"They can be eaten, but they aren't typically in the palace," Loki replied. "Wild boar, pheasant, it's all very hefty," he teased. "I'm sure that some of the animals brought down for sake of food are grander in size than you are. Perhaps even me."

"What about the geese though?" she continued. "Is there like some taboo on eating them, or do they have special powers?"

"Why this sudden fascination with geese, love? Are you alright? Maybe we should revisit the doctor and make sure that everything is alright."

"No! Food!" she interrupted, finally arriving to the smallish cafeteria.

The wonderful smell of food danced in her nose as she took in all of the odors. Bacon and sausage and eggs. Freshly squeezed orange juice. Biscuits with an assortment of fruity jams and jellies. Ground coffee beans with a dash of vanilla creamer. Pancakes and waffles.

"How long was I asleep?" she asked curiously, stumbling over her anxious feet to get her hands on a plate. Taking a generous portion of everything she could, she grabbed another plate, shoving it at Loki. "Get everything else, please?"

Loki rolled his eyes, but obliged, grabbing a pancake and waffle, slathering them both in syrup and butter, and with a dash of whipped cream that made her smile in delight. Oh food! How long it must have been since she had eaten anything real, and she was craving so much of it, she thought she would burst. "You've been asleep for twelve hours. Didn't know you could be that tired after waking up out of a coma," he mentioned, setting the plate down at a table and going back to the buffet for his own plate of food.

"You must have worn me out," she teased, taking a grand drink from her orange juice, humming in approval. "What with all of your… flexibility."

"If that was that case, then I am thoroughly refusing to do such a thing again until I know for sure that your body can do such a thing," he said obviously, taking a seat with a cup of coffee. While he wasn't overly fond of the drink, he had to admit that when it was solid black and bitter, it satisfied a part of him that drinks ordinarily couldn't.

Natasha grinned cheekily. She may have appeared excitable and happy on the outside, but beneath it all, she knew she had to figure out a way to get her hands on that book. And after that, figure out how she was going to read it without his help.

* * *

**Voila. Please don't be too mad that this took so long. Like I said, I am truly sorry, and I hope that there won't be delays like that for a while. I'm not giving up on this story, just to satisfy any nerves some of you have got, so cool your jets! This was just me being so busy I almost forgot what the word "update" meant.**

**Remember, 14 more reviews until someone gets a one-shot, so let's get those reviews in soon! Maybe someone will be lucky enough to get it this time around, yeah?**

**What do you think of our mysterious woman Nat dreamt of? How do you think she's gonna read the book? And how is she going to react when she finally does find out? Maybe you wanna leave me a review and let me know? Maybe? Not like I deserve it after such a long absence, but yeah, please do leave a review! Would love to hear who's left!**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	23. Fight or Flight

_**Chapter 23 - Fight or Flight**_

**Hello, my darlings! I am so sorry for the delay that this chapter took. I explain it a little more at the bottom AN if any of you are actually interested in the goings-on of my life.**

**Congratulations to SunsetWanderer for winning the one-shot challenge! Send me a PM, my dear of what you would like to see and I will get going on it as soon as I possibly can. Thanks for all of the lovely comments I got for that last chapter. They made me happy.**

**Oh, you may want to reread some of your favorite Black Frost chapters before you read this one… it gets kinda dark, and I'm apologizing in advance. So, if you want to hold onto our babies, go read your chapter and then come back to brave the elements.**

**Disclaimer: No matter how hard I cling to my Avengers DVD, it shall never be mine.**

* * *

Natasha had seemed very quick to get back into the swing of things. Two days after coming back to the land of the living, she had set up shop in the Helicarrier's gym. Every day she was training, perfecting her already faultless skills. Clint suspected that it had something to do with never wanting to be in that position again - dead. This war with Red Skull had taken a toll on her body, first being captured and tortured, and then being actually killed.

Clint supposed that her skills may have actually been getting sloppy; all of this was Loki's fault obviously. Nat wouldn't have allowed herself to be like this had the god not been in her life. She would have held firm and nothing would have happened to her. Loki weakened her.

But he didn't though, Clint thought with a sigh, lowering his head over the railing. He could see the change in his partner. While overly suspicious of what Loki had done to save her (magic was not something to be toyed with, he surmised), Clint had seen her happiness. He had accused her of hiding from joy, and he knew he should have been happy to be proven wrong. And, in a way, he was. She deserved happiness, even though he disagreed that it should be Loki to give that happiness.

While still greatly disliking the god, Clint would never tell his secret. If Loki wanted to bring Natasha back from the dead, Clint was going to do nothing to condemn him for it. Nat would be pissed, but he didn't care. She was alive. And that was all that mattered. Hell, if the bastard hadn't had him under mind control for a week, Clint was sure that he would have planted a kiss right on Loki's lips for doing what he did to save her.

As if sensing his thoughts, Clint watched as Loki walked calmly up the stairs to stand next to him. They hated each other, yes, but tolerating one another hadn't come so difficult now. "She figure it out?" Clint asked gruffly, looking out over the swarms of agents performing their duties.

"No," Loki answered.

It didn't surprise him much for Loki to come to him. The others, while happy that she was alive, were also incredibly angry with Loki for using the magic that he did. Tony decided that since it was scientifically impossible, it therefore had to be morally wrong. Bruce had simply worried that something in the spell itself would bring her back wrong or hurt her. Thor had pointed out that even Asgardians weren't given that privilege to come back to the living, and he had crossed a very well defined line by doing what he did. And Steve had hated him passionately, claiming that only God had the power to resurrect the dead, and anyone else who tried should be damned straight to Hell.

Clint though didn't offer one word of reproach, actually thanking him for what he did. And in that moment, their bond had grown. Clint knew at that moment that Loki truly loved her as much as he had said he did. And he knew that Loki was serious about loving only her too. And Clint couldn't help but respect that trait in him.

"She training?" he asked again.

"What else could she be doing?" Loki retorted with a huff.

"Not getting any?" he mocked with an arched eyebrow.

"I don't understand that reference," he said.

"Yeah, you do."

Loki sighed, "I'm not. But that isn't my concern. My real concern is that she doesn't even want to be around me. It's like she knows something about what I did and she is refusing to confront me about it."

"What do you want to do about it?"

"I almost want to go and beg her to have it out already. I can't take it."

"That's exactly what she wants you to do. She's hoping that you come to that conclusion, and she hopes that you'll tell all in the begging."

"Damn her," Loki breathed, realizing her tactic.

"She's good, I'll give you that."

"She will figure it out eventually," Loki pointed out. "Natasha is exceptionally intelligent and she's a spy. If she wants to find out, then she will. I just wish I knew how she was going to go about it so that I could prevent it."

"Maybe we do need to tell her," Clint suggested, getting a glare from Loki.

"So that you can have her back? Because surely she will not love me once she learns what I did to save her. Naturally, she would turn to you. And who would you be to turn her away?" Loki rambled.

Clint frowned and looked back down at the railing. "She doesn't love me. She never has, and I doubt that she ever will. She'll be pissed for a long time about it; she's a woman. But she'll get over it. I'm just saying that the longer we hold off on telling her, the longer she's going to be mad at you when she does find out. And the madder she is going to be. I don't think that she'll anything rash, just… not anything worth wanting to find out about."

Loki smiled softly, thankful for the words, though he wouldn't ever admit it. "Perhaps you are right. I just don't want her to be angry with me at all. And if I can hide it…"

The archer nodded in empathy. "I know." He chuckled mirthlessly. "God, I know."

* * *

This whole game of "Keep-The-Secret-From-Natasha" was getting really old. What was it that was so terrible that they had to actually hide from her presence entirely? She had tried talking to Steve, figuring his face would be a dead give-away if she said something valuable. But, the bastard seemed to be doing brilliantly at relaxing in an unknown location with one Maria Hill. One of their stupid restaurant dates probably. Bitch.

Natasha had then decided that perhaps Banner would have enough sympathy for her mental torment and simply put her out of her misery. Again, he seemed very determined on getting back to Calcutta. Not two days after she had woken up from her coma had the doctor vanished completely, like dust in the wind, she thought sarcastically. As if anything big and green could ever resemble anything like dust.

Then she had gone to Tony. The man was a breeder of gossip, and there had to have been something that she would have been able to tear away from him. If she could just get him to talking, he would surely spill something of interest. However, much like the doctor, he had vanished - not exactly to as remote a place as Calcutta, granted - the lab was really wasn't out of reach, it was just that when he was in the lab, _he _was out of reach. Or so Banner had explained before he took off.

Knowing that Loki and Clint would refuse to give anything well, Fury as well, she figured that the last of her efforts were riding solely on Thor. He had already proven to her that he knew something about her mysterious recovery. She would have to weasel it out of him.

The plan was simple. That morning, when Loki had gotten up to take a shower, Natasha had snatched his book. It had to have the answer in it. Why else would it be here? What was the point of Schmidt having it if it was a dead language that no one even knew? Besides the Asgardians. And lucky for her, there happened to be two of them on this boat, and if one of them would refuse her, she had the other one to turn to.

She gave her lover a peck on the lips, feeling him smile into the kiss, and this she could not help but return heartily, sighing in bliss as the tips of his fingers traced the curves of her waist and hips. She had been avoiding him lately. Yes, it made her feel guilty as hell, but she knew that he was the one to cause the others to want to hide from her. He did something. And she didn't exactly want to be around him much. But damn, when he kissed her like that - all basic thought processes and decision making capabilities were thrown out of the window. She was a woman, after all.

"Where are you off to today?" he asked gently.

"I'm going to go train," she answered automatically.

Loki's face fell slightly, but she paid the look no heed, not wanting to talk about her training obsession as of late. "Be careful for me?" he pleaded.

"What else would you expect?" she retorted, turning her head slightly when he leaned down to kiss her again. One lapse in judgment was enough for one morning.

As soon as he left the room however, doing whatever it was a God of Mischief wanted to do, she dressed quickly. She dug the book out from underneath the bed (always a nice hiding spot) and left the room. She first crept into the control room, investigating all of the cameras, locating Loki.

Standing with Clint.

Furrowing her brow, she watched the two of them exchange words, and while there was an air of superiority that she could practically see off of the two of them, they remained cordial. Hell, they both even cracked a smile! Whatever it was that Loki did, it seemed apparent to her now that Clint approved. Approved enough for Loki to win back some respect - which meant a great deal.

However disturbing the idea of her lover and her best friend actually… being friends… was, it was somewhat of a relief for her, and after a moment, she couldn't help but smile at the sight. Being torn between the two most important men of her life was not her ideal goal, and it was nice to see that that may no longer be an issue. Granted, they'd probably do something else eventually to get on the other's nerves, but for now, it was nice.

In a way, it made her reluctant to dig deeper, to pick at it. It hurt to know that their friendship wouldn't last, and it was going to be because of her.

But it had to be done, she thought, nodding to herself in resolution and turning on her heel away from the console to find her target, clutching the book tightly to her chest.

Unsurprisingly, he was near the food, talking amiably with some of the other agents, completely unaware of the part he was going to play.

Taking a tray of her own (and hiding the literature underneath it) she piled on a small portion of salad and ranch and gave herself a nod of assurance before stalking over to her prey, plopping herself down beside him with a wide, happy smile in greeting, setting the book in her lap now. He, good-natured as he was, returned the gesture, though she could recognize the twinges of fear and nervousness that tugged at his dark blue eyes. So unlike his brother, whose face was always guarded and eyes masked to hide the real emotions. Thor was an open book in comparison. Made her job easier.

"Lady Natasha," Thor started, surprised. The other agents made quick to abandon the two Avengers to their discussion, figuring it to be important. Such cooperative people, they were, she thought smugly, stabbing at a rogue piece of lettuce with her fork. "I did not expect to see you about."

Natasha shrugged nonchalantly. "Healing has never been a setback for me."

"No, I suppose, healing wouldn't," Thor breathed, looking at her curiously. "Is there something wrong?" he hurried, trying to avoid the topic.

"Why would there be?" she returned, seeing him fidget in his seat. "I'm alive; I'm healthy; I happened to be hungry, so I came here, and thought I'd share lunch with a friend."

"But that isn't all that you were thinking of doing, is it?" Thor guessed.

Natasha chewed her food slowly, debating on how to answer his question without arousing the most suspicion. It always did surprise her just how much Thor really saw, how much intuition was hidden behind the teddy-bear exterior.

"Well…" she drawled, forcing a blush. "Loki was busy, and I thought that maybe… never mind. It's not pertinent," she carried on, waving her hand away.

Thor's brows scrunched on his tanned forehead as he continued to stare at her. That didn't sound like she was planning anything devious or trying to do anything sneaky… But he could never really tell with someone with her, could he? She was supposedly Midgard's equivalent to Loki on Asgard. A wordsmith, and a queen of deception with a throne she practically made herself. She could be lying to him now, and he wouldn't know the difference. He could never tell with Loki; what hope was there for him knowing her any better when he couldn't notice his brother's lies? "Very well," Thor stated, unwilling to take the chance.

"It's just…" she started immediately after his comment. "Loki found this book in the wreckage. He says it's not important or anything, and I'm sure it isn't. It's a book, not blueprints for a Plan B or anything. He says that it was part of Schmidt's library and it had been written in a language that only Asgardians could read. Part of some really old Scandinavian dialect, a dead language now. There are some words that look a little familiar to me when I read them, but I'm not sure."

"You want me to read it to you," Thor surmised, feeling more at ease. "Why not Loki though?"

Natasha waved a hand. "He's not much into reading when we're together, if you catch my meaning. Not that I'm complaining, exactly," she finished with a chuckle, taking the book out of her lap and placing it on the table.

"I don't 'catch' your - oh." Thor blushed a cherry red and shook his head to get rid of the image, looking down at the title. Unfortunately, she didn't allow him to look at the title for more than a half a second, flipping it to a page that had a bookmark poking out. "How can I help?"

"Well, this whole passage here," she dragged her finger down a page that looked a little more worn for wear than the rest of the pages it. She had noticed some tearstains on the page, and figured that this would be the best place to start. "seemed interesting. There are a couple of words that looked familiar." Like 'hjarta' - heart, 'enn' - still, endurlifga - revive. She was playing it risky, but had she ever really played any other way before? "Can you read it to me?"

Thor smiled at her and looked at the words, "With a being's heart still, there are few spells to revive this being, fewer still of them being truly successful and without any real danger of a person's soul becoming damaged in the resurrection…" Thor trailed off, eyes becoming wide as he understood what it was that he was reading. He looked up at Natasha, whose eyes were glistened with tears as she herself understood the words being translated. Hurriedly trying to cover up his mistake, Thor continued, "The tree by the river has… green - leaves, and it can…"

"Stop," Natasha said softly, raising her hand. She took the book back and closed it, setting it in her lap, tracing the print on the cover. 'Sorcery of Life' it said - how could Thor had been so stupid?! Of course, it would be a trick! "He lied to me," she carried on, Thor watching as a tear fell from her eye onto the cover. She didn't even try to swipe away at the emotion. "You all did," she said, looking still at the cover. "You, Steve, Banner… Stark, Fury, even Clint." She scoffed with a dark chuckle. "Well, of course he would," she said, the answer painstakingly obvious to her now. "He wouldn't want me dead. That's why he and Loki are getting along. Because they both would do anything to save me."

"And I think that that is what we need to concentrate on the most, Natasha," Thor quickly mentioned, taking one of her hands in his own. "They both love you so dearly - we all do - and we couldn't stand the idea of going through existence without you."

"I didn't want this," she growled, retracting her hand from his. "I know he can do magic, and I never once believed for a second that I could change him into a man who didn't want to do magic. It's part of who he is, and I accepted that. But the only rule…" her voice broke, and she looked away from the book, her heart breaking. "The only rule I ever really cared about… was that he would never do his magic on me. That he would respect my wishes and let what was meant to happen to me… happen."

"How do you know that he was not meant to bring you back?" Thor posed the question, knowing without a doubt that she wouldn't take the bait, but he had to try. "That it was his destiny to save you."

"You gods," she scoffed, laughing again and throwing the book on the table, both trays of food falling to the floor. "You think you have the right to give and take life -"

"Most religions, I'm told follow this philosophy -"

"But you don't care about the middle do you? The part where I maybe did want to go? The part where I acknowledged that I was tired and didn't want to be brought back? I was at peace with things! My life is my life! I control it! I control when I'm meant to die! I control whether I want to fight for my life! He had no right to do this to me! And what'd you say? That there were few spells that even brought people back normal? What does that mean? That maybe I'm even less human now than I was before he did this to me? He mutilated me! Broke me!"

"He loves you! You must know that!" Thor yelled, standing from his seat and grasping at her shoulders tightly, trying to put some reason into her.

With ease, she pushed aside the arms, punching him hard in the cheek, though it did little to hurt him, mainly stun him. "He was selfish!" she screeched, uncaring about the building audience in the cafeteria, all unsure of how to proceed. "He didn't care about what I wanted - just that he wasn't alone!"

"Agent Romanoff," she heard and turned to see an anxious looking Fury staring at her with one hand reached out in a calming gesture and the other resting on the butt of his gun his holster. "You need to calm down now."

"You! I trusted you! I've done everything you've ever asked me to and more! I'm the best fucking agent you've ever had in your pathetic life here, and this is how you treat me? Giving one life for this damn, shit for brains government conspiracy wasn't enough for you?"

"We had no idea what Loki's intentions were -"

"Bullshit!" She looked down at the gun he was grasping and threw her arms out to the sides. "Do it, Fury! You can just bring me back again, can't you? Regular bullets are basically just tranquilizers now, aren't they? Finally invincible now, aren't I?"

"Natasha, stop it!" more voices entered the conversation, this one belong to Captain Rogers. "You need to think about what you're doing. Look around you right now. You don't want to do this in front of them, do you? That's not you -"

"How would I know?" she laughed. "I may not even be human! Who's to say who I am anymore?"

"You're still you, and you know it -" Thor started.

"I don't know anything except that you all betrayed me," she snapped, her voice quieter now, the hurt beginning to twist itself over her pale features.

"Natasha!" the final voice erupted, and she felt strong arms wrap around her, taping her arms to her sides. Old parchment drifted into her nostrils, and all she felt was disgust. Stomping on his foot and head butting him in the chest, she sent a swift kick to his face, knocking him to the floor. Panting and broken, she stared at him, the one man that she had trusted with everything she had. "Love, I'm -"

"No, you're not," she interrupted, unwilling to hear the words. That would just make it worse. "You lied to me and you're lying now."

"Well, God of Lies…" Stark peeped up, standing from the sidelines. "Listen, Red, we know that we were wrong to keep you in the dark about this. But if you could have seen what was happening -"

"I'd want to sacrifice another life for the happiness of all of you? Because sacrificing my ass for you all once wasn't enough?"

"That's not it at all," Clint soothed, trying to breech the circle. "We didn't want to live in a world without you in it."

She violently shook her head, the tears excruciatingly burning at her green eyes. Hands clenched into fists at her sides, she shoved past them all, looking down at the tiled floor as she fled from the scene, running to her room. Not Loki's. Not Clint's. Hers. She reached the door, the tears falling more freely now as her forehead pressed against the metallic surface.

How could he do this to her? Play with her like this? She looked down at her hand grasping at the door handle, pale fingers twisting around it like her mind commanded they do. Were they her fingers? Or were they Loki's? - now that he had created her life, did that make her the property of him now? She told them what to do, but that didn't mean anything. She had been told what to do before, and she had done it like it was her own action. She had been told to live, so she lived. What difference was there?

Natasha looked up at the sad camera that was perched above her door, staring at her with its black, squinting eye. Angrily, her hand reached out, punching the vile thing, watching as it crashed to the floor, pieces of plastic covering her booted feet. She didn't want to be watched anymore. She didn't want the world to know her name. She didn't want the world to know where she was.

She hated him. The words scratched at her heart, every bone and nerve knowing that it was a lie. She couldn't hate him. She wanted to. But she couldn't.

She would go back to where it started, this fascination with him, this curiosity, this little ball of trust that, by some miracle, was still there, although damaged and torn.

Abandoning the door, she walked through the halls, tearing down cameras as she went, feeling closer and closer to freedom as their crashes rang in her ears.

Natasha punched in the code with determination, sliding into the room quietly, taking out another camera. The ethereal glow of the cage seeped into her skin, its greeting familiar.

But there was one greeting that didn't accompany it. Something snarky and chilling, no doubt. About building habits and being the same.

_We are the same. _

_I'm nothing like you._

She felt him before she saw him. The feel of her heart leaping in her chest at the familiarity, at the kinship, stung - she shouldn't feel like that anymore. "Get out," she breathed tiredly, looking down.

"No," he said simply, his feet appearing in her line of vision. "Look at me."

"No," she retorted. His finger hooked underneath her chin, forcing her face up, though she resisted, closing her eyes to him. She could prove she had control over her body. That he wasn't the true owner.

Loki sighed, pain erupting in his chest at the rejection. "I do not expect forgiveness -"

"You're in luck then," she claimed, ripping her chin from his grasp and walking away from him.

"Would it make a difference if I told you that I was going to tell you?" he said quietly.

"Would it make a difference if I told you that I'd never want to see you again?" she snapped, her eyes meeting his for a moment. So addictive, falling into those eyes. They saw more in her than she did. They saw the pain that she was going through. But that didn't mean that he understood it. Maybe once he would have. But not anymore. Only her. Her eyes were watering again, coaxed on by the ice blue in his. "You knew I didn't want this. That I would never want this."

"Love, I know -"

"Don't call me that," she said harshly, gathering the strength to wipe at the tears. "Don't ever call me that. Not again."

"Natasha, I still love you -"

"Not enough," she interrupted again. "How? How could you proclaim to love me, and then do this to me? You said you knew what it was like to be lied to your whole life. You said you understood me. But you did this to me, just like they did. So, how could you love me?"

"You didn't want to die," Loki answered, taking a step forward, Natasha taking a step back. Once more the rejection hurt, but he didn't push. "I know you didn't."

"How?"

"Because you fought," he said powerfully. "You clung to life for so long. You were so strong."

"Then what? I just gave up?"

"I blame myself for it," he admitted.

"That's a first."

Loki's eyes wavered dangerously, a look she knew by heart, one that clearly said 'do not touch' and 'beware.' "Don't you dare -"

"What? Your father doesn't love you like Thor, blame your heritage. You can't destroy Jotunheim, blame Thor. You can't take over Earth, blame the Tesseract, blame the Other. I bet that you're blaming Thor right now for telling me and making me like this. You wanted me as a submissive, lovesick puppy, following you around and not questioning you."

Loki growled angrily, marching up to her, hand poised like it was going to strike. He thought better of it though, hand falling to his side. She knew he couldn't do it. He couldn't hit her. But he could hurt her. "I left. Went down to Munich… I got you this," he said softly, protruding a small snow globe and passing it to her. The little trail they had hiked together, reaching all the way to the top. Instead of snow falling on their sacred place, there were little blades of grass, twinkling in the soft glow of the cage. "I thought that you would like it. It didn't have those little people in there for you to be jealous of… just our place. It's where I first started falling, Natasha." Natasha's eyes were shining with tears as they leaked out. It was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given in her life, and it hurt even more to know that it was from him. He could still make her body feel like a puddle at his feet, just with a gesture. "When you'd wake up, I was going to give it you. Help you start a collection. I even paid for it. But when I got back to your room… The doctors were all around you and yelling things I didn't understand. I didn't know what to do, and when they told me you were gone… I shouldn't have left you there by yourself. Maybe I wouldn't have needed to resort to magic, and you'd be awake anyways. I just know that I shouldn't have left you there, not for a second. But, I couldn't leave you to die. I fell asleep, and you were there, in my dreams, asking if I had killed Schmidt with magic. Whether I had stopped his heart with magic. It gave me the idea… maybe I could start yours again with it."

Natasha still shook her head, thrusting the gift back into his hands, wiping them on her clothes, as if ridding herself of the emotion the knick-knack brought her. She could see the hurt swimming in his blue eyes, see the tears that were beginning to leak out of them. Well… good. He needed to feel the pain she was feeling. "You can't make this right simply by giving me a present. It doesn't work like that."

"Then take is as a sign that I am trying to make it right, Natasha," he begged, pushing it back in her hands. "I never wanted you angry with me."

"Then maybe you got the spell wrong," she said with a voice that was stronger than she felt. "I don't want this. Take it back."

"It's yours."

Natasha gulped, braving herself for the coming action. "Like your heart?" she asked meekly, knowing the answer, but wanting so desperately to prolong it.

"Yes. Always," he said softly, sounding hopeful.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

With a sniffle, she lifted her arm, and threw the snow globe down on the metal floor with as much strength as she could muster, hearing the glass shatter just like the cameras. She heard him gasp and struggle back a sob, or maybe that was her. She couldn't tell. She watched the liquid run out of the broken globular shape, the little grass pieces swimming to a stop. "Take it back," she said harshly. "I don't want it."

She left him then, standing in the room. _Their_ room. It hurt more with every step she took away from him, but she pressed on, holding the sobs in.

Natasha climbed on deck, knowing that they were still low enough in the sky for breathing to not be an issue. She found a pilot, some smarmy soldier boy who would do whatever he was told to. He flew her down to the ground, dropping her at the airport. Back in the U.S., she mused.

Getting away from S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to prove exceptionally difficult, but she had hidden before. She could do it again.

Standing with boredom in the airport's lady's room, she waited patiently for a woman to enter, hitting her hard in the head with her elbow the minute the blonde walked in. Dragging her unconscious victim into the large stall, she searched her, finding a passport, driver's license, and $500 cash as well as a few credit cards. Natalie Green. Chuckling at the irony of the first name, she then sighed in slight regret and set aside her spoils. She stripped the woman down, swapping the clothing for her own. Thank God the woman was close to her size. Leaving the woman snug in the cat suit, Natasha gathered up her spoils and settled them into the purse, flipping her hair in the mirror a few times before leaving. If she was lucky, the woman wasn't traveling with family - the clothes were very businesslike, and there hadn't been a wedding band on her finger. Good chances. It'd be a few hours before they'd find her, still locked in the stall. She'd probably wake up before being found. A few hours.

The pilot who flew her here would no doubt tell Fury where she had been delivered. They would be expecting for her to catch a plane somewhere.

She was better than that.

First thing she knew she had to do was get to a salon. Natalie was very clearly a blonde, something that Natasha very clearly was not. That would have to be amended.

* * *

She sat perched in the salon, determined not to look at the door every time the little bell jingled. She should have better confidence in her skills than that, but she was still on edge, trying desperately not to think about _him._

"So, who's the douche who likes the hair?" the hairdresser asked suddenly, painting even strokes of dye on her hair.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said uncomfortably.

"Oh, come on, honey, I get these situations all the time. Some guy tells the girl he likes her hair, and she's so repulsed, she has to change it."

"Oh." Natasha fidgeted.

"Nothing to be ashamed of. Is he an ex?"

"You could say that, I suppose. Certainly not together anymore."

"What happened?"

Natasha bit her lip, debating on releasing the story. Natasha Romanoff would not tell her story - she was a spy, that was just something that you didn't do. But maybe Natalie Green did. And this was a hairdresser. How many sob-stories had she heard in her job? Like bartenders of the fashion world. "Well, he was this douche I worked with," she started, feeling the tears pop into her eyes again.

* * *

"Wow…" the hairdresser said slowly after she was finished.

And that was the edited version.

"Yep."

"Well, good news is… you're done! I must say, if you are trying to avoid his attention, it may have been a better idea to just shave your head. You're hot," she commented, turning the chair to the mirror so Natasha could see herself.

It was different. Always red, always wild. Now soft, honey yellow, and tamed. This wasn't her. But he had changed her, didn't he? She wasn't who she was before… She was different now. Because of him. Maybe different was good. First step to cleansing.

"How much?" Natasha asked, fishing through the stolen purse for cash.

"$60."

"Shit, that's a lot," she complained. She could pay that, easy - that wasn't the problem. It was just that frugality was never something to be ashamed of.

"I'll cut you a break. Sounds like you need it. $40."

"Bless you," Natasha thanked, handing her two twenties. With one last look at her new self in the mirror, she left the salon, fishing out a pair of sunglasses and putting them on.

S.H.I.E.L.D would expect a name change. That was a given. Most people that could assist with something like that though were all on their radar, and they would be checking those places first for any whiff of her. She couldn't have that.

The best plan was to stick with this stupid name she picked up and get the hell out of dodge. Somewhere deserted. Hidden. Hidden in plain sight.

Munich seemed safe.

With a smug smile at her new plan, she approached a bus stop, sitting on an available bench and waiting for the next approaching one. Get out of town, any other place big enough for an airport. Leave. Escape. Outrun the pain she left behind. Yes. This was best.

So then why was she still hurting so much?

* * *

Loki hadn't moved since she had left. He was still staring at the destroyed snow globe, understanding all too well what the shattered pieces meant. It was more than a snow globe. She had compared it to his heart, broken and in pieces, spilling out everywhere. It was how she felt. How she felt her heart had been treated.

"We're looking," Clint said carefully sidestepping the glass to lean on the railing.

"She doesn't want to be found," Loki responded quietly, reaching for a piece, cutting the pad of his thumb, though his face showed no pain there. "She doesn't want me. She doesn't want this."

"She's just stressed. She'll come back."

Loki gave a sad knowing smile to the archer. "Lies don't work so well on someone like me."

Clint sighed and gave the god a pat on the back. "I don't know how this could have happened." Loki opened his mouth to answer. "Well, I mean, I know how, of course. You saved her. But she's been mad before. But she's never been this mad. I've never seen her storm out of here like she's not coming back. I didn't know she could be pushed like that. I mean, it was just… gone. No warning, nothing."

"She once told me that she hated the idea of being controlled," Loki mentioned, staring at the blood on his finger now with surprise. "She was her own person, and she refused anyone the right to tell her what to do. I told her what to do. Except I took it to an extreme she had never really encountered before. She had been given the serum, which would help prevent death, but I actually brought her back from the dead. I wouldn't let her die. I controlled her life. She has every right to hate me."

"Would you do it again if the opportunity came up?" Clint asked curiously, staring at Loki out of the corner of his eye.

"In a heartbeat," Loki answered immediately.

* * *

**Now, before you go all bitchy on me about how they aren't together anymore… let's skip that step? I'm very, very sorry that this had to happen, but… well, I didn't exactly plan for it to happen until about halfway through the chapter when she finds everything out.**

**And I know that there is going to be some person out there in the world who is going to say that this isn't Natasha and that I've somehow mauled her character and I should just hang up my writing on a spit or something. I actually truly do think however that she's still in character, guys. Little stretched at times, I'll give you that, but I think that this is realistic for her character. We all know that control is a big thing for someone like her, and well, this was just the straw that broke the camel's back. You have to remember that this woman is nearly a century old and she's put up with a lot of shit in her life - that doesn't mean that she's invincible though and can't get hurt by the people she cares about. Was her reaction with Loki a little much? … Possibly, but I have somewhere that I'm going with it. I promise. We knew that it was going to be difficult for Natasha to get over something like this; we just need to give her time. And maybe, Loki has a little growing to do on his own before they try at a relationship.**

**Sorry if I pissed you guys off - truly. And I'm sorry that I've been gone for like ever. It's the home stretch of senior year, and believe it or not, there's a lot of crap that's gotta get done before the big walk. I've had mental breakdowns and screamed at family and am all around exhausted. But I thought that you guys deserved a little something for the wait. Thanks for the patience.**

**Don't forget SunsetWanderer! You are the 200****th**** reviewer, so send me a PM with your request for your one-shot! So excited to get writing that! Let's see if we can get to 250! Quarter of 1000! Woo hoo!**

**Love you lots!**

**- Books**


	24. Should I Stay or Should I Go?

_**Chapter 24 - Should I Stay or Should I Go?**_

**Well, here we are yet again. School is officially out for me, so I guess the good news is, I'll have more time to write for you all. And the story should be concluded by the time the approaching school year comes around, so you won't be seeing me drop off of the face of the earth again. Good things! … I don't know how old any of you guys are, but I am just now graduating from high school, and it is crazy! Be nice to hear from any you with advice or something! :D**

**Thanks for the great feedback on the last chapter! Glad to see that people weren't terribly furious with me for doing what I did. I promise that they will eventually get back together. When? I have no clue at all. Bear with me.**

**Check out the one-shot that I created for SunsetWanderer if you want! It's called Salt and Pepper for all those who are interested. Pretty cute!**

**Disclaimer: While the story is taking a life of its own, I am unfortunately not its original creator. Sorry to burst anyone's bubble out there. And title of chapter came from The Clash, but is in no way related to the story. Good song though.**

* * *

Everything burned.

Everything.

The spaces between her toes felt like they were being licked by ravaging flames.

Sitting up rigid in her bed, Natasha reached up and clutched the blonde hair on her head, as if trying to pull the harassing dream out of her skull. Bloodshot eyes and a tear-stained face were what she was met with when she gazed into the mirror on the wall across the bed. The vibrant flush she had just started getting accustomed to gone, leaving a shiny, pale surface - an ugly pearl.

She watched the Natasha in the mirror, seeing her bottom lip tremble with yet another onslaught of tears that never seemed to leave. She looked awful.

Casting her green eyes determinedly away from her image, she stared down at the white sheets of the room, fingers tracing the patters of string as they looped in careless twirls.

The burning sensation was starting to fade to the recesses of her mind, but the hurt that was attached didn't seem to be making any movement from her thoughts.

What had happened to her? The world's greatest spy, reduced to hiding and crying over things that never once mattered to her before. Love had been for children, and she hadn't wanted it. It made her weak, and now, by all logic, she should be strong again. So then why wasn't she? She had never felt weaker in her life, and there had been some pretty significant highlights from that book.

_Because you still love him._

Another traitorous thought, she scoffed to herself. No matter how many times she buried that emotion within herself and tried to convince herself of the hatred she held for him… It always came back. Her heart would still palpitate with excitement when she would see a man with dark hair. As if maybe he had come after her, wanting her, needing her. But it never was him.

A part of her was torn even more deeply at his easy dismissal of her from his life. Was she not important enough to warrant a search? Because surely, if his heart was truly in it, he would have found her by now. She probably wouldn't even have gotten out of the country. He would have held her, whispered his sweet-lullaby-nothings into her ear and had her under his spell all over again. Because she would have allowed it to happen.

Then there was that part of her that was exceptionally grateful for the negligence he was providing. He hadn't been lying when he said he knew her better than anyone else. He knew well enough to leave her alone. She didn't want help, didn't want company, didn't want S.H.I.E.L.D. And she especially didn't want him right now. She would have gone back if he asked it of her, but she knew that there was a time for everything. And right now was not the time to go back.

Natasha watched the teardrop fall onto her hand, feeling a smile itch at the corners of her full lips. This wasn't the first time he made her cry. It was something that he excelled at, and even though he always claimed that he hated that ability, it always happened anyways. The only man she had ever met who could reduce her constitution down to sobs.

She could remember the first time he had made her cry - really cry. How much she loathed him at that moment, twisting her mind into some malformed beast and breaking her like a spirited horse. That had been the first time in a long time that she had really allowed the emotions to come back into her life. And she had hated him even more for making that happen. Had vowed that she would kill him, meander her way into his broken heart and fix him, only to break him… like he broke her.

Well that plan worked out swimmingly, didn't it?

Scoffing once more at her stupid predicament, she threw the blankets off, walking to the curtains of the room. The digital clock said that it wasn't even four in the morning yet, but she knew that she wasn't going to be getting any more sleep tonight.

Munich was beautiful at night, she thought quietly, pulling the drapes back to stare at the city. Still damaged, definitely, but on the mend. Much like Manhattan had been after his extraterrestrial attack. It all seemed so easy, picking up pieces, putting them back together again. Like a jigsaw puzzle. Make it beautiful again; make them a part of something even bigger and better than they were alone.

Oh, if only it were that simple.

* * *

Loki nudged at the food on the plate, blue eyes locked in a trance as his fork made the hundredth figure eight on the glass, screeching irritating his company.

"Brother, you should eat something. Your strength -"

"Shut up," Loki hissed, glaring at his older brother menacingly.

"Bastard doesn't want to eat, you're not gonna make him," Barton offered, stretching his feet out on a neighboring chair. "Let him starve."

"Finally, someone who truly cares," Loki mocked half-heartedly. Nevertheless, he stabbed at some piece of meat, chewing it slowly, the taste not resonating on his silver tongue.

Thor watched his brother carefully, watching the familiar glaze recapture the blue orbs of his eyes. So rarely had Loki come out of his shell since she left, and it seemed like there wasn't really a chance of getting a mischievous twinkle to emerge from the younger prince. It pained Thor to see his brother so deep in the throes of distress, and while he knew that he should hold Loki in contempt for causing all of it, he couldn't help but greatly dislike Natasha for leaving. Brotherly instinct is what he chalked it up to. Loki did something wrong; that was a given, and he didn't support it by any means, but running away from the argument? Since when had that assisted a resolution?

"If you are going to insist on wearing that stupid face, go somewhere else to wear it," Loki admonished, looking crossly at Thor. "It doesn't help."

"I just don't understand why she thought running away from you would help fix the problem," the prince explained, getting a dark look from the two men at the table.

"You don't know Nat," Barton pointed out.

"It's not that she wanted to run," Loki started, looking paler after the mention of her nickname. "It was simply that she didn't want to be around me. If she stayed, she knew that I wouldn't stop pestering her to fix this, and right now, she doesn't want to fix this."

"So, she is pouting?"

"She doesn't pout," Loki remarked immediately. "She wanted to be alone."

"Do you suppose she'll come back?" Thor wondered.

"Not alone," Loki murmured, closing back in on himself, shoulders hunching once more and fork resuming its meaningless play on the plate. "I'm going to bed." Picking up the uneaten tray of food and dumping it into the trash, he left the two Avengers in the cafeteria, staring after him.

"I have never seen my brother this way," Thor said slowly. "I don't like it."

"I love it," Barton answered honestly. "But I don't think that he deserves it."

"Oh, yes, that's right," Thor started sarcastically. "You approved of his decision to toy with the spirit world and bring her back. Risking destroying her soul and breaking her mind. I may not know Natasha as well as the two of you, but it was very clear to me that she was quite set on the idea of dying only once. And that was ruined for her. I cannot imagine the sort of thoughts she is experiencing - whether she is even real or capable of emotion and pain, why she's alive, what she did wrong to not deserve rest. It was selfish what he did, and for the life of me, I cannot hate him for his actions. By all means, I should be supporting Natasha at this very moment, and yet, I dwell on the thought of hating _her!"_

Barton scoffed, folding his arms across his chest defensively. "Nat had every right under the fucking sun to leave. From her perspective, yeah Loki's the bad guy. When is he not? But what Loki did… I can't guarantee that I wouldn't have done the same thing if I were in his place. She went through so much in this life, and most of it was terrible and were things that don't even come up in nightmares. She was not happy. But I could see that when she was him… things changed. It was like a whole new world was opened up to her, and she could be happy there. So, maybe Loki brought her back because he didn't want to live without her. But maybe now, she'll get a chance to live in that happy world that she just started before she died. She deserves that."

"She deserves rest."

"Once that would have been her point of view. Peace over happiness. But after that small dosage of pure happiness, I'm not convinced that she can go back to the way things were before this."

"So, she will come back to him?" Thor surmised, amazed with the thought.

Barton chuckled, standing from his seat. "Fuck no. Nat's one of the most stubborn women I have ever met. If Loki wants her back, he's going to have to go get her."

"Does he know that he needs to do this?"

"Somewhere in there yeah. But I'm not about to bring it up. He's gotta love her enough to save her from herself, even if that means she'll kill him in the process. Which, either way, I guess is a win-win for me, so…" he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders before leaving Thor alone in the cafeteria.

Thank Odin Jane wasn't so complicated.

* * *

_Two months later._

* * *

Weeks were getting easier, or that was what she told herself. Smiles were getting easier to fake, and frowns easier to hide. Munich was gradually rebuilding itself alongside its once redheaded savior. But that didn't mean that she was happy. Away from the inquisitive eyes of friendly acquaintances that she had met, tears made themselves at home in her eyes.

The pain that had been associated to having her body used in his spell had waned, and it was a new kind of pain that had begun to fester. She missed him. As stupid and crazy as it was - and she knew very well how pathetic she had become by admitting the feeling to herself in the first place - it was true. The way his blue eyes could give her one look only and know exactly the thought that was running through her mind. The way one soft touch of a fingertip could calm every nerve and excite them at the same time. The way his silky voice could wash away any fear and make her laugh.

She wanted to go back to him. She truly did. Have him hold her again, and tell her that everything was going to be alright. But he was probably gone now. What reason did he have to stay on the 'meager planet' that he despised so much? She wasn't there to hold him back, and it was probably a good thing. They both had known that the day would come when he'd leave, and she'd stay. So, they had sped the departure up, but it had been quick, like popping a shoulder back into its socket. Painful as hell, but better in the long run.

Natasha ran a finger along the rim of her coffee mug, staring down into the brown liquid. He liked coffee - liked its bitterness. Straight up black - just like her own.

"Hey, sweetie, so sorry I'm late!" she heard and looked up to see the familiar brunette come and sit across from her at the table, setting her purse down and grabbing a cookie. "Max is spending the night at a friend's house, and I had to drop him off first."

"It's fine," Natasha excused with a smile, taking a cookie of her own and nibbling on it thoughtfully.

Brigitte had been one of the first people Natasha had truly met on her arrival to Munich, and she couldn't deny that she found the young woman a pleasant distraction from her problems. She was kind and friendly, and almost always available to talk to. And her son, Max, was a kind boy too.

Brigitte was the first real friend she had had outside of the norm that had been created for her. Brigitte was normal - no special serum or alien boyfriends or government cover ups or angry green men. She was a normal human being with normal human being problems. And she was her friend more importantly.

"So, what'd you need to talk about so quick?" she asked, snatching another cookie. "Has Dennis finally asked you out?"

"I told you, I have no interest in that imbecile whatsoever." An image of the model-like blond popped into her head, making her grimace. Nice on the ideas, wretched on ears. She had never in her life met a man that stupid in her life.

"Right, cause you're still hung up on that Lukas guy or whatever," Brigitte excused with an eye roll that made Natasha shift uncomfortably in her seat. "Dennis' a good looking bachelor with money and charisma and tenderness… and you're trying to explode me with your eyes."

Natasha sighed, resting her head on her fist. "Do you ever have regrets?" she asked quietly.

"We're human, Natalie. Comes with the territory."

"But about something as big as who you're supposed to spend the rest of your life with?" Natasha returned, voice softening even more. "Like you maybe walked away from the greatest thing in your life, all because of something he did because he loved you?"

Brigitte observed her carefully. "Maybe if you told me what he even did, I'd be able to understand more, because you've lost me."

Natasha shook her head vigorously, terrified at the thought. How do you explain unwanted resurrection by magic to someone who doesn't even know magic exists? "No."

Again, Brigitte paused, chewing her cookie thoughtfully. "You still love him?"

Oh, how she hated that question. There were so many things that were wrong with it, and it sent unpleasant quakes down her spine. She didn't want to love him, for one, and hearing the words 'you' and 'love' put into the same sentence brought back unwelcome memories. Like watching Lady and the Tramp together, or sitting on their hill together and talking, and him coming to rescue her from Schmidt like the typical knight in shining armor.

But the insinuation that she wasn't able to let go was even worse. If a mere human could sense enough unrest to perceive her to still be locked in that relationship, then how could she be wrong?

"Natalie?" Brigitte asked worriedly, reaching across the little table to clasp a pale hand. "If he was the one, then -"

"He wasn't," she interrupted, giving her friend a warning glance. The last thing she needed was to be talked back into a relationship with the god. She didn't need a man in her life in order to be happy, and she certainly didn't need a man who would manipulate her life like he owned it. That was unacceptable, regardless of how she felt about him. She needed to prove to herself that she still had her dignity and wasn't willing to break on the thing that was the most important to her. He _knew_ what he did. He _knew _how much it would hurt her.

"But what if he was?"

"Brigitte, stop -" Natasha breathed, clutching the hand tightly now, tears threatening to escape the prison bars of her lashes.

"No, you need to hear this!" she pressed. "I've been the sympathetic friend for two months now, and I've seen the shit you're going through. Even a blind man would be able to see that broken heart of yours. A normal guy doesn't evoke that kind of pain."

"He was the first one, that's all," Natasha excused. "The first I ever…"

"That doesn't mean that he wasn't the one, Nat. Whatever he did, it tore you to pieces inside, yes. I'm sure that he deserves the walk out that you gave him. But the fact of the matter is, you're still stuck in this rut, and you're still hurting like you were two months ago. There's only one kind of man who can pull shit like that and still make you hurt."

"I just haven't had enough time," Natasha tried again. "I need more time."

Brigitte sighed. "Friend to friend, I'm telling you that you need to pull your head out of your ass for five minutes and realize that this guy you walked away from is the one. You've already forgiven him, haven't you? You're not as hostile as you once were about all of this."

"I -" Natasha breathed, finding her voice considerably more shaky than it once was. "I understand… why he did it. Maybe… I could have done the same thing. He did it because he loved me."

Brigitte smiled gently, giving her hand a tight squeeze. "Sometimes, you hurt the ones you love. It's accidental, sometimes purposeful, but in the end, it causes you just as much pain as them. I bet he hasn't been the same since you left. A woman like you walking out on anyone has to hurt."

Natasha laughed shakily, wiping at the treacherous tears before they made a run for it out of her eyes. "I don't love him," she mentioned quietly.

Brigitte shrugged, the fact not bearing any importance to the brunette. She pulled her hand back and went to snacking on her cookie. "Doesn't mean that you couldn't fall in love with him again… If you gave yourself the chance to."

"You're saying I should go back?"

"I'm saying that it's time to get past this stubborn streak you've got and admit that you've lost the most important man in your life and it's time you found him again," she answered simply.

Feeling a spark twinkle in her gut, Natasha smiled fully for the first time in two months. Maybe Brigitte was right. Sometimes the strongest person was the one to admit that they are wrong and need help.

But then, she felt the sinking of the happy twinkle disappear, her face falling flat again and the tears resurfacing. "He's gone," she explained.

"What do you mean, 'he's gone'?"

"I mean, he left. Where we were, that wasn't home to him. Without me there, there would have been no reason for him to stay. He's gone," Natasha stated.

Brigitte chuckled dryly. "You don't watch chick flicks often do you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, this always happens. Girl runs off after being totally hurt by Boy. Girl realizes she still loves Boy. Boy doesn't live there anymore. Girl tracks him down. Boy and Girl live happily ever after."

"This is hardly a fairy tale, Bridge," Natasha excused.

"No, no, no, chick flick," Brigitte corrected, sitting upright in her chair. "Fairy tales are cute and everything, but they always seem to have the problem of some monster coming between them. Chick flicks, you face the couple's problems. And the sex is better in chick flicks."

"Well, I can't exactly track him down. Where he is… I can't go."

"What, does he live on some alien planet?" she teased.

"Something like that."

"Is there a chance that he hasn't left?" Brigitte offered. "Maybe he's waiting for you. If he loves you as much as I'm supposing he does, then he wouldn't have left. Maybe he's just waiting for the right time to track _you_ down. Those flicks are good too."

Natasha remained silent as she considered the possibility. He surely wasn't the type of man to admit defeat. It had been one of the traits that she had loved about him. Could it even be possible?

* * *

"Brother, I know that you don't wish to leave but -"

"Not yet," Loki said with conviction. Lounged across his bed, if he focused enough, he could catch a faint whiff of vanilla. "I'm not ready."

Thor sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She isn't coming back, Loki," he enunciated, watching the lanky form of his younger brother stiffen, hands clenching into well-practiced fists.

"You think I don't know that? She's stubborn, and she knows she's right. She'd die before she admitted she was that drastically wrong about something."

"And you'd just bring her back again?"

"You know that I have no intention of leaving, so unless you have another reason for being her, get out," Loki snarled.

"We don't belong here, Loki," Thor attempted.

"I'm aware," Loki breathed. "I don't belong on this stupid planet," he continued, standing from the bed and beginning to pace around the room, an angry light in his eyes. "There is nothing here that would resemble happiness. The Earth, the same planet I tried to conquer, the same planet I saved, is nothing but a black coal in my heart. I hate it here. I used to take pleasure in screams, then in laughs, but now, nothing. I hate seeing it rain; I hate seeing the sky blue and the stupid birds singing. I hate her, I love her, but it doesn't matter, because she isn't here to hear to me! She isn't here to see my hatred, my love. What is the point of having all of these pathetic sentiments if the one you want to see them isn't even here?! I want to leave! I want to break whatever bond is left and escape the pain here, but I can't! Because what if she comes back? I know she won't, but what if? What if she gets here an hour after I leave? What then? What if she comes to see me, and I'm not here to see her? I can't leave. I can't." He paused, dropping down onto the bed, tears fresh in his eyes. "I don't belong on this planet, because I belong with her," he finished, lying back down on the bed and settling into the pillows.

Thor frowned, having no idea what to say to his brother. Biting his lip nervously, he finally stated, "Then go be with her."

"She's a spy; you don't think she can hide? She doesn't want to be found, wherever she is," Loki excused painfully.

"Bullshit," Thor declared, the vulgarity shocking the younger prince out of his stupor for a moment. "You've known where she is from the moment she left this ship. Who knows her better, if not you? If you insist on her seeing the torment she has put you through, then stop waiting for the impossible, and go get her. You're right; she will not come here. Therefore, the only solution is you going to her."

Loki frowned as he pondered the idea. "She doesn't want me to."

"She didn't want you to do a lot of things, and you still did them anyway. I don't see how this situation is any more different than before. And even if she was ready to see you, you said it yourself - she wouldn't come here. So, how do you know that she isn't ready to see you right now? And you're just being a stupid jackass, moping around here and begging for the pity you once scorned. If you refuse to come back to Asgard with me, then it's time you do something actually productive to fix your situation."

Gulping and standing once more, Loki ran a hand through his hair. Calm and smooth on the outside, but a flaming tidal wave burning through his blood on the inside, he nodded in resolution. "I take my leave. Don't send the others after me. She'd feel attacked. Just me."

The magic coursed through his blood and settled in his muscles, the power almost overtaking him. Too long, it had been since he had employed its uses, he felt exhilarated as he allowed the magic to carry him off to the town. The town where he _saw_ her. The town where _they _began. Because where better to go to wash away part of the past than the place where the past started?

* * *

Natasha smiled grandly at her friend, standing to her feet. Optimism was such a rare occurrence in the agent, it was sometimes impossible to recognize, but now, it was the only thing she could feel. It shone through all of the pain and the hurt, encompassing every crack and crevice of her skin.

"You want a ride to the airport?" Brigitte asked knowingly, arching an eyebrow teasingly.

Natasha shook her head, walking to the exit. "I think I'll walk."

Stepping out into the warm sunlight of Munich, Natasha felt like she could fly.

* * *

She was blonde now, Loki noticed immediately as he approached the coffee shop. The once fiery tresses he had so loved running his cool fingers through gone, replaced by a gentle honey. While he missed dearly his flaming red, the tender yellow was still just as wondrous in his blue eyes. She looked softer, more supple and younger, but wiser all the same. Like a whole new woman.

And, by Odin, did he love her.

It wasn't until her leather heeled boot touched down on the cobblestone road did his eyes widen in fear. No, not now! "Natasha!" he screamed.

* * *

Falling backwards, Natasha grunted in pain as her head hit the cobblestone, the world swaying dangerously like in a funhouse. She heard someone call out her name. Not her stolen one, but her real name, which gave her slight pause.

The grill of the truck was the last thing she saw before the world faded into black.

* * *

_Green eyes opened slowly to the expected world before her._ _Night time visits to Dream Asgard, as she called it, where becoming more and more common. It would sometimes hurt to be in a place so close to his home, knowing that maybe in the waking world, he was standing beside her. Or even in the same vicinity as her._

_But it was different this time. Despite the fuzziness dancing in her brain, Natasha felt calm. For the first time, she felt confident that he wasn't there. He was nowhere. He was on Earth. How she knew that, she wasn't sure, but the thought felt right._

"_I have never seen a human so accident prone," a teasing voice announced, Goose Lady entering her peripheral vision and taking a seat beside her. "For one so agile and coordinated, I have never seen so many accidents happen."_

_Natasha shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips as she looked on at the woman beside her._

_Here, she was just Natasha. Natalie didn't exist here. Blonde hair was a figment of her imagination, flames reigning supreme._

_Reaching up and playing with the red curls, her smile widened. Playing other people was fast and limitless and power inducing. But there was something about being herself that gave her a calm that nothing else could truly master. Secrets that Natalie held so close were laid bare to Goose Lady, taking weights off of her shoulders._

"_It wasn't so bad," Natasha mentioned, trying to convince the motherly figure of her state. "Probably just a concussion."_

_Goose Lady sighed and began weaving her own fingers through Natasha's hair, as if mesmerized with the red waterfall. "Your hair has grown much since you left him," she said lightly, but Natasha stiffened anyway, anxious to see where the conversation was going._

"_A couple of months does that," Natasha breathed, still not moving._

"_Hmm," the other consented, letting her hand drop. "You were about to go see him?" she surmised, giving the redhead a knowing look. "Weren't you?"_

_Natasha nodded slowly. "I'm still mad, but… I can't wait anymore."_

_Goose Lady smiled with wisdom. "Your mind has grown too. Admitting fault is one of the greatest of virtues, after all."_

"_I'm not saying that I'm at fault," Natasha quickly disagreed. "He did something that I did not want him to do, and he made me suffer for it, and who knows how many lives I've damaged by ruining the natural order? I shouldn't be here."_

"_You believe in Fate?"_

"_I believe that I've been robbed from the grave. My time was up -"_

"_So you say, but how do you know that? I saw you fall, dear. I saw the life you had drain out. A young life. Just on the cusp of fulfillment. You speak of the grave been stolen from, but how are you to know that the life was not stolen away from you first? That Loki -" Natasha flinched, having not heard the name and refusing to speak it for too long. "- was simply fixing the wrong that had been done against you? The grave be damned."_

_Natasha frowned. "I have never once believed that I could change him. I knew that he liked doing his magic, and I accepted that. I put up with the supernatural nature of the situation because I loved him and I respected his desires and instincts. I would have appreciated it if he had respected mine in turn and let me go when I was ready."_

"_You were no where near ready," Goose Lady scolded. "I have seen your life, the past, the present, and the future of it. There is much for you to live for. You were not done."_

"_I wanted to be," she said quietly._

"_You wanted to be happy. Him bringing you back was a way for you to achieve that happiness and you threw it in his face like you didn't want it."_

_The image of her throwing the precious snow globe on the metal floor before her dramatic exit entered her mind, making her wince. He gave her the world, _their _world, with that gift, and she destroyed it in the most physically painful way possible. "It was that I didn't want it," she said quietly, recalling words that claimed the exact opposite. "I didn't like his methods of making me happy. It was wrong and went against everything I've ever stood for."_

"_Do you stand for something different now?" she asked curiously._

"_No, I don't. I just can't stand to be away from him anymore. Maybe it's just time to sweep it away and start over."_

"_I was wrong," Goose Lady said darkly, appraising Natasha angrily and with contempt. "You haven't changed. Child, Love is about compromise and forgiveness and acceptance. Loki -"_

"_Don't say his name please," she begged._

"_So, you are ready to see him, but unwilling to say his name?" she remarked mockingly, cutting Natasha with the sharp words. "Loki did something wrong, this is true. I have seen him, and it is clear that he still does not regret what he did to save you. You both are far too stubborn for your own good. You can't see past the damage that Loki's caused you, to see what damage you've caused him. I never took you for one to play the victim, Natasha Romanoff."_

"_I'm not, I'm -"_

"_When you wake up, things will change," she interrupted, voice cryptic in a way that frightened the redheaded spy. "For the better or for the worse is not for me to see. Your precious Fate doesn't know which is better now. You have a choice. _The _choice."_

"_I've always loved ambiguity," Natasha said sarcastically and with a scoff._

"_Do not mock me, child. You may be the Black Widow, but you are out of practice and I am a goddess. You ought to remember that the next time you decide to make snide remarks. The future is not always meant to be seen, and you have already been blessed with the gifts that you have received. Seeing pieces of your future is a rare token, but one can never know too much."_

"_You see the future," Natasha pointed out, finding her voice. "How is that different?"_

"_Rarely ever my own," she retorted. Her face softened, and she went back to running fingers through Natasha's hair. "You have a choice," she repeated, sounding controlled. "For the sake of everyone, please make the right one. You think being alive damaged the balance. It isn't just about the two of you anymore. And the sooner you acknowledge that fact, the better off you'll be, I suspect." She paused, leaning over to press a kiss to Natasha's temple. "Good luck, dear."_

* * *

White. Bright. Clean. Smell. Uncomfortable. Loud.

"Oh, thank God!" she heard, a pair of arms latching around her small body, causing a flare of pain to skate up to her brain, making her yelp. "Sorry! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" The body retreated back, but a new set of arms touched her shoulders, a brighter light still flashing in her eyes.

"Follow the light please," the voice said calmly, and Natasha struggled to follow the request, but managed somehow.

"Where am I?" she asked nervously, staring at the world around her.

"Can you tell me your name?" the doctor said clearly, pushing her shoulders back when she tried to sit up. "Ma'am?"

"Natasha -" she started to say, but then she saw a wisp of blonde around her neck and she paused. "Natalie," she corrected, looking up at the doctor with determination. "Natalie Green. I'm 28 years old, and that is my friend, Brigitte, over there," she said, pointing at the familiar brunette in the corner.

"Oh, thank God, she remembers!" Brigitte exclaimed. "She remembers!"

"Do you know what happened to you to get you here?" the doctor continued, but he looked encouraged nonetheless.

Natasha frowned, closing her eyes and struggling to remember. "A grill of a truck… I got hit, didn't I?" she guessed, scoffing at herself. Natasha Romanoff, pride and joy of the Black Widow program in Soviet Russia, murderer and manipulator, got hit by a truck. Not looking both ways, will do that, she supposed sarcastically.

The doctor chuckled and relaxed completely, releasing his hold on her shoulders. "You gave us a scare there for a minute there, Ms. Green. Are you feeling any pain?"

She merely shook her head, looking down into her lap at her scraped up hands that were dressed with clean bandages. A surprisingly calming sight, the bandages. Things that had often become a part of her some way or another. It was nice to have a small remnant of her old life back, to remind her who she really was. She was Natasha Romanoff, she was 85, and her lover was the legendary God of Mischief, and she dreamed of women who turned into geese.

…The doctor probably wouldn't have liked an answer like that.

"How did I give you a scare?" she asked suddenly, looking up at the doctor nervously.

The doctor chuckled and rested a hand on her shoulder, a twinkle in his eye that frightened her more than calmed her nerves. "You'll be happy to know, Ms. Green that the baby is fine."

* * *

**Muhahaha, I'm terrible, I know. I know, I know, I know. But, I got a review recently regarding the subject, and given the other reviews of support for the idea (who outweighed those who said no) I thought that it was time to try something a little new with my writing. I hope that you'll all like it! I'm excited, but we shall see.**

**Oh, and that one line Brigitte says "Sometimes you hurt the ones you love"? Got that from Spike on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, so that stroke of genius does not belong to me, but to the hottness that is that bleached vampire. Don't judge me and my other fandoms. **

**Thanks for the reviews! Let's get to 250! :D**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	25. Who Said Baby?

_**Chapter 25 - Who Said Baby?**_

**Hey there, my darlings! Thank you for such a responsive… response! - on that last chapter. Glad to see that people like the idea that I'm putting out there. I can only hope that you guys continue to like it. I will warn you - this is my first pregnancy writing attempt, so if I totally botch it, or if something seems completely implausible or insane, don't be afraid to speak up! I have loved hearing comments that my characters are in character, and I would like to keep them that way! So, at first sign of badness, let me know so that I can fix it before it becomes irreparable. Thanks!**

**Just 23 reviews away till someone gets a one-shot! Just thought that I would throw that out there if you're curious. XP**

**Anyway, back to the story - I know that I left it on a cliffy.**

**Disclaimer: Me. No. Own. Nada.**

* * *

"_You'll be happy to know, Ms. Green that the baby is fine." _

Natasha blinked, the words appearing as foreign and flashing little lights of distress in the back of her brain that distinctly said that her ears had been affected in the crash. She had to have misheard. It wasn't possible. Her body - the serum… it just wasn't possible, and that was all that she cared about.

"Ms. Green?" the doctor asked, noticing the blank look on her face. "Did you hear me?"

"Not correctly," she muttered, her jaw barely moving as she continued to stare at the white coated medic in front of her.

"Your baby," he started again, Natasha flinching at the troublesome word, "is fine."

"I don't have a… one of those," she disagreed, shaking her head and looking away from the doctor to the tiled floor.

She could sense the confusion emanating from the two humans in her room. They could have children, she thought to herself, resisting the urge to pull her knees to her chest. They were human; they could have more humans. They could procreate. Her body was destroyed by the Russians. They didn't want her to have more. One of her was enough for them. They ruined her chances of being a mother with that injection. It wasn't possible. She wasn't human enough to have a child.

"Well, not yet, silly," Brigitte said, coming to her friend's side and clasping a bandaged hand affectionately. "Isn't it wonderful? You're going to be a mother! We can be moms together!"

Natasha violently shook her head, pulling her hand away from Brigitte's, and feeling frightened. "No, I can't. I - It's not possible."

The doctor chuckled, like her fear was some big joke. "I know that it is a little alarming, and raising a child on your own can be daunting, but -"

Natasha choked on tears she didn't know she had before exploding into them. She had not even thought of the father of the unborn child until now. What would he say? He wouldn't want it. She didn't even know if she wanted it. She wasn't built to be a mother, and he wasn't exactly what one would deem father material based on first glance.

"Honey?" Brigitte started, setting a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder, which did nothing to stop the onslaught of violent sobs coming from the hospitalized woman. "A minute?" she asked, looking at the doctor, who nodded uneasily and fled the room. "Natalie -" she started.

"I can't do it," she breathed through the sobs.

Brigitte frowned softly, combing her fingers through the blonde hair. "I know that this is scary at first, but it'll be alright. And you're not going to be raising the baby on your own like the doctor said. I'm going to be there for you every step of the way, and maybe, we can contact the father, and he'll come."

"He won't want it," she choked out.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know him!" she retorted. "We are the same," she added in a voice just about a whisper. It had been months since she had had the courage to utter those words, or even admit them to herself in her head. She still didn't want to be his female counterpart, but she knew that she couldn't run from a truth that clear and obvious. "We are the same," she repeated.

"Are you saying that you don't want the baby?" Brigitte asked, a hint of disgust playing through the normally sweet and gentle voice.

Natasha remained silent, her thoughts running at a million miles a minute as she evaluated her situation more fully. Tears evaporated from her porcelain face, green eyes focusing on the flatness of her stomach. Did she want the baby?

_What would it be like to feel safe? The soldier in her hated the thought, thinking that it would be filled with nothing but immense boredom and lack of adventure. She needed the adrenaline pumping through her veins, and she needed Death at her heels. How else could she suspect to really live? It was the extravagant, dangerous lives that were the most entertaining to lead. She had become cultured in this life, being a deeper soul than what most people would expect from a pretty face like hers. But the other part of her, the woman, she supposed, craved that peace that came with safety. Never having to worry about anything other than taxes. An apple pie life. Where she could settle down and not have to worry about the dozens of mercenaries on her tail. She could enjoy life, breathe in the free air. Not have to change her name so often to stay off the grid. Maybe have a family…_

The recurring thought was something that she couldn't have prevented from flitting across her mind. She could see herself, standing with Clint on the deck, just after speaking with Loki, thinking of the roads her life could take.

She couldn't deny to herself that a part of her really did admire the idea of having a family. And in one of her many dreams, she had been filled with nothing but joy when she held the little boy. And then she heard Goose Lady, clear and unrestrained in her speech as it whistled through her ears.

"_You believe in Fate?"_

"_It isn't just about the two of you anymore."_

"_You have a choice. _The _choice."_

Her hand fell on her belly, as if feeling for the life she had helped create there. He was a part of her. This baby was not just hers - it was his just as much. She still was unclear on how it even was possible for the to conceive a child, but that was beside the point now.

"I need to find him," she murmured, having forgotten her friend's presence in the room.

"Okay!" Brigitte said excitedly, startling Natasha out of her stupor. "This is good; this is progress. Any idea where he might be?"

Natasha shook her head, but not for a lack of not knowing. "You can't help me, Bridge," she discounted, throwing the blankets off of her tired form and tearing the IV out of her arm.

"You can't get up!" Brigitte yelled, trying to push her back down onto the bed and getting a fierce shove from Natasha, sending her to the floor.

"You have to let me see her!" she heard, and the voice made her freeze in her spot, fingers still grasping the front of her hospital gown. There were a series of shouts that erupted in the hall, and out of her peripheral vision, she noticed Brigitte stand to her feet, coming to stand at Natasha's side. The brunette clutched Natasha's arm worriedly, as if debating on whether to run or stay. "Get out of my way!" she heard again, the voice sounding closer this time.

When the door finally swung open, blue grasped green in an immediate hold, preventing escape.

"Now, you listen here -" Brigitte started nervously, standing in front of Natasha now.

"Shut up," he started, flicking his wrist and silencing her friend.

Brigitte seemed terrified of the man who had entered, but Natasha maintained a blank face, staring at her lover with what could be interpreted as pure boredom. But he knew. He had to. He knew every thought, every fear like it was his own. "Stop that," Natasha ordered, pointing to her friend.

He looked annoyed by the request, but fulfilled it anyway, removing the spell to hear a gasping squeak. "Natalie?" Brigitte chirped, clutching the wall as she stared at the man in the center of the room. "Who is this?"

He seemed interested in the name Brigitte had given to her, but didn't comment on that.

"Luke," Natasha hurried, seeing a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

Brigitte's mouth dropped open as she stared at the god, eyes raking down his form in a way that made Natasha frown.

"Brigitte, I need a minute alone with him," Natasha said, not breaking eye contact with him.

Brigitte nodded and ran from the room, shouting at the doctors that he was family.

"You said your name was Natalie?" he asked.

Natasha shrugged, sitting back down on the bed. "Happened to be the name I stole from the woman in the airport bathroom," she excused.

He seemed curious about the untold adventure, but didn't say anything. She finally saw a hint of vulnerability dancing in his eyes as he continued to stare. She could see the burning urge to start pacing, though he did nothing to satisfy it. "How have you been?" he finally asked, voice cocky and arrogant as always, but his eyes conveyed the true worry he felt for her.

Natasha shrugged and looked down. "Better."

"Oh," Sadness.

"I mean, better than I have been these past few weeks," she corrected.

"Oh." Relief.

"You?"

"Better now."

"I thought you'd be in Asgard."

"They can wait."

"Oh." She paused, shifting on the bed. "Why are you here?"

"You got hit by a truck," he answered with a scoff.

"You were the one to call my name," she supposed, looking up at him.

"Yes." He gestured to her bed. "May I?"

She nodded, feeling the bed sink as he sat down. "I've missed you," she admitted.

"Probably not nearly as much as I have you," he replied with a chuckle.

She smiled. "I wouldn't admit to that, but…" Trailing off, she looked up into his eyes, seeing a blue so wonderfully familiar, recognizing how much she actually missed the iciness of the orbs. "I don't forgive you," she mentioned quickly, the words popping out of her mouth before she control over them.

"No, I didn't think you would," he said calmly. "I don't regret it."

"I didn't think you would," she acknowledged. "So, why are you here?"

"In Munich?"

"Yes."

"I missed you."

"How'd you find me?"

He chuckled gently, reaching up to touch her blonde hair. "Natasha, I never lost you."

She should smack the hand away; she knew that. Him touching her was not helping the situation, and she was determined to not fall back into his trap again. He needed to know that what he did was wrong, and she wasn't going to be manipulated into forgiving him that easily. But even knowing all of that, she couldn't stop herself from sinking into the touch, feeling sparks dance on her pale cheek wherever he touched. His fingers felt so right there. They belonged there. Even when she was angry with him, the fact remained that she still cared.

"It isn't red anymore," he stated obviously, looking curious.

"The woman's identity I stole was blonde," she excused.

"Did you hope it would disguise you from me?" he guessed playfully.

"Something like that."

"You think that the only way to find you is through seeing you?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He sighed, pausing in his ministrations to look more deeply into her eyes. "Your aura is quite difficult to miss, love."

"You used magic?" she guessed, finally pushing his hand away.

"I didn't need to," he answered in a relaxed tone. "I could just sense you." He reached for the hair again, and she reluctantly allowed him to run his fingers through it, slipping deeper and deeper into serenity with every stroke. "You're still beautiful, you know."

"I like it red," she said quietly, nestling her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar old parchment smell she had been longing for, for months.

"You certainly lose your bite with this color. But you look gentler this way," he agreed.

Natasha bit her lip, wondering on how to even encroach on the subject of parenthood with her estranged lover. Somehow, she just knew that he was still in love with her, and she knew that she was still in love with him. But that didn't mean that they were going to be able to pick up right from where they left off. Too many things had happened to their relationship, and she was horrified of what a baby could add to that rollercoaster. Having broken up twice, died, and ran to a completely different continent and now pregnant with his child? And who even knew what this baby was going to turn out like? She was a mortal, and he was a god! Who also happened to be a Frost Giant! Ignoring the fact that two completely different species shouldn't even be allowed to procreate, how was she to tell him of the situation? Something told her that simply saying 'Hello, ex-lover of mine - remember having sex right after you brought me back to life and right before I dumped you? Yeah, well, now I'm pregnant with your kid' wasn't the right way to say it.

Maybe she could just not say it? Avoid the worry all together and forget about it?

_Yes, because hiding a giant bump in the middle of your body is going to be so successful, _her conscience mocked. _Not to mention violently throwing up in mornings and eating weird food and then crying for no reason. Good plan._

"You might as well just say it, love," Loki purred with a chuckle, running fingers down her arm.

"Hmm?" she returned, desperately trying to play dumb.

"I'd have to be blind in order to miss your need to tell me something."

Natasha pulled herself out of his embrace and looked down into the lap, as if her anxious twiddling fingers would know just the right thing to say. The green painted appendages merely continued their incessant winding and bending over themselves. She watched his hand dive into the mix, stilling them and giving her only a portion of the reassurance she wanted. But then, she supposed, there really was no limit to the reassurance a person could get in these situations, was there?

"When I woke up…" she started, finding her voice lodged in her throat, as if it too knew the repercussions. "The doctor told me that I was fine," she managed to finish, watching as her fingers resumed their lively action around his.

While she wasn't looking at him (rather making a pointed effort to not look at him) she could feel the confusion falling off of him in waves. "This is good news, isn't it?" he asked, voicing the confusion.

"But that wasn't all that the doctor said," she bickered, taking a steadying breath as the sentence was beginning to come out. "He said that the baby was fine too."

Loki was silent for a very long time, and it wasn't until he removed his hand from hers that she even remembered that he was even there anymore. "I was… unaware that such a thing could happen."

"Join the club," she muttered.

He cleared his throat awkwardly before standing from the bed. "I… realize that this must be a difficult time for you. I'm sure that I've ruined things for you and whoever the father is. I just thought that maybe… that maybe we would have a chance to move past everything that has happened. But I can see that that notion is absurd and I'm no longer the man in your life. I apologize for coming and making this more difficult for you, Natasha. It was not my intent."

Natasha lifted her head and stared at the god curiously, brows furrowing together. "Wait -"

"If there is anything I could do for you and the father -"

"You're the father," she interrupted, standing now and taking his hands, placing them tentatively on her flat belly. "I never had plans to be mother - I didn't know that I could be. I suspect that it's because you're a god that changed that."

Loki let out a shuddering breath before moving to hold her close to his body, burying his nose in her blonde hair. "It's mine?" he asked again, voice cloaked in wonder and amazement.

"You honestly expected me to shack up with the first guy I met here?" she demanded, giving him a rough shove to get him off of her. "Did you really that I am that shallow?"

"Love, that's not what I meant to insinuate at all. I simply assumed that since we left on such turbulent terms that there was no way that the child could be mine. I was never good enough for you anyways; I just thought that you finally found someone mildly deserving -"

"Playing a kiss ass isn't going to win you brownie points here, Loki," she argued, folding her arms across her chest.

Loki laughed then, the noise sounding like tinkling music in her ears, and she had to bite her lip in order to prevent the contented smile for erupting. "Not what I planned on kissing just yet, Natasha," he muttered, closing the distance between them again and capturing her lips with his own. Unable to control herself, she moaned into the kiss, completion being the only thought whirring through her head. Even when she hated him (and she wasn't quite sure she was done with that stage) he made her feel whole again. Like picking up pieces of herself and putting her back together was as simple as snapping one's fingers.

Her fingers tangled into his raven hair, feeling his chest rumble with a possessive growl in approval, and she felt his arms tighten around her. She sank more into the embrace, despite the clear alarm sound blaring in the back of her mind. _Manipulator. Selfish. Evil. … Lover. Happy. Relief._

When he pulled away, he sank to his knees, pressing a keen ear against her stomach. Startled with the touch, Natasha froze, watching his face light up with an unfamiliar emotion. Carefully, Natasha combed her fingers through his hair, mesmerized with the joy.

"What do we do?" she finally asked. Loki stood and settled her back on her gurney, the stupid happy look remaining plastered on his face. "Loki!" she called, snapping him out of the stupor.

Loki's face changed suddenly, looking dark and worried as he beheld her, whatever thought permeating the joy he felt earlier. "Do you want it?" he asked hesitantly, as if afraid of the answer.

"Do you?" she retaliated.

To be frank, she still wasn't very sure about the idea of a child. But this was on her and Loki. She didn't have anyone to blame for becoming impregnated, and she felt that it was the right of the child to live as happy a life as possible. So, aborting it was out of the question. But adoption perhaps? She knew that she wasn't motherly material, but she also knew that she could feel the connection between her and the baby right now. It was a part of her, and she was giving it life even as she thought about it. She was nurturing it right now; this baby was depending on her to take care of it. With a that potent thought, she wrapped her arms around herself, determined to shield the baby from whatever horrors thrown at it. It was her baby, and she had to protect it.

Loki stared at her for a while, noticing the way she clung to her stomach with her small arms. He had his answer, whether she chose to voice it or not. So, he defiantly stared at his lover. "Yes."

Natasha sighed with relief, her arms uncoiling around her midsection. She nodded in response to his question then. "Me too."

Loki smiled widely at her and took a seat beside her. "How long is the… incubation period?"

Natasha couldn't stop herself from chuckling at the awkward wording. "Nine months."

"I have to wait nine months?" he asked incredulously. "I'm sure that I could speed it up -"

"You do anything even remotely related to magic regarding my body, I'm gone. And you won't find me next time," she snarled, feeling motherly instinct take over her once more. "This baby may not be entirely human, but that does not mean that I am going to let you do whatever the hell you want to it, and hope for the best. It takes nine months for a reason, and I am not about to risk the health of our baby just because you are impatient."

He nodded, looking sullen. "What are we going to do about the… everything else?"

"About our argument?" she asked, seeing him nod. She could recall Goose Lady quite clearly telling her that true love meant compromise and forgiveness and acceptance. That loving someone didn't mean ignoring the problem and hoping that it went away. That this wasn't something that could be swept underneath a rug and forgotten about. "I don't know," she finally admitted. "I want to forgive you. I really do, and I'm trying to, Loki. But you have to understand that me and forgiveness aren't exactly close."

"Neither me and apologies," he muttered.

Natasha frowned, feeling tears well into her eyes. "So, there isn't a tiny part of you that regrets what you did to me?" she whispered. "That I'm just a toy to you, and you can do whatever you want to me? That my feelings don't matter enough to you?"

"Don't talk like that," he snapped, glaring at her with ice blue. "You know damn well that that could not be further from the truth. I lie about many things, but my feelings about you have not been grouped in that deceit. You think that I perceive you as a toy, Natasha? It was because you weren't that I fell in love with you in the first place. And your feelings are what I hold most dear."

"Then why bring me back?" she asked quietly, sniffling. "I was Death's bitch, and it should have been left that way."

Loki smiled, reaching out to swipe tenderly at the hair covering her neck. "Because you aren't anybody's bitch, love. You didn't belong to Death. And I realize that you don't belong to anyone, even me, but I do know that you belonged to me more than to Death. You didn't want to die. You fought for so long; tell me, is that a sign of giving up? I couldn't let you go when you didn't want to."

"You're saying you know my will better than me?"

"When you're unconscious, yes," he retorted quickly. He paused. "I dreamt of you," he admitted softly, making her stiffen.

"And what did I say?"

"You asked me if I killed Schmidt," he said with a smile. "With magic."

She shook her head. "I said that when I was awake; I remember that."

"It was you who told me what I needed to do. Said that you were excited to see me when you would wake," he continued.

"And illusion; that couldn't have been me," she argued, though she could feel herself losing the mini-fight. There were plenty of dreams that she had had lately that weren't exactly your run-of-the-mill dreams and had a lot more meaning than what met the eye.

Loki grinned, as if reading her thoughts. "You're upset that you're not the only one with fascinating dreams?"

Natasha sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I still don't forgive you. Not yet."

"And I'm not sure that I'm ready to apologize yet. Not for that anyways."

"Does that imply that you're willing to apologize for something?"

Loki sighed with a solemn nod. "I am sorry that I caused you pain. You know that I love you, and that I hate to see you in pain because of me. I am sorry that I let you go. That I haven't been there for you."

"I didn't want you with me though," she reminded, surprised with herself for actually coming to his defense when she knew damn well that he didn't deserve it.

"Doesn't meant that I didn't want you with me," he answered cheekily, making her smile.

Perhaps that was a sign of acceptance? Of compromise? That even if he went behind her dead back and used magic on her, he allowed her the time and space she was requesting. He wanted to be by her side, even with her furious with him. And he held back from carrying out these selfish desires, all in order to make her feel more at ease and comfortable. It was a sign of growing, and whether she wanted to or not, she figured that she needed to compromise right back at him. Because that was what Love was about, right? Compromise, forgiveness, and acceptance. Maybe start easy with compromise, she figured.

"I don't want to go back to the Helicarrier," she mentioned.

Loki frowned, though it was obvious that he had foreseen this sort of challenge. "The team is very worried about you," he relayed. "Barton especially."

She smiled, never believing that she would see the day where Loki would use Barton as a bartering chip to get her to return with him. "Have they been looking for me?"

"I told them not to."

"Why are they not here now?"

"Because you don't like crowds," he answered simply.

"I don't want to go back, Loki," she said quietly. "If we are keeping this baby, then the last thing that I want is for it to be raised in the same life I was. I want it to have a chance to be happy. Happy enough for all three of us. The Helicarrier isn't the place for that. _S.H.I.E.L.D _isn't the place for that."

"Then where do you want to go?" he asked.

Natasha bit her lip, now looking down at her belly. Maybe the baby would know? Scoffing at herself for the ridiculous idea, she buried her head in her hands. Where was it safe? Where could a baby be happy enough for two damaged people? Where was it free?

"Asgard," she supplied, looking victorious with her decision as she turned to face her lover. "Let's go there. We can raise the baby and -"

"I'm not sure if you've forgotten, love, but the last time I was there, I tried to destroy an entire people. And then, I came here, planning on taking over your realm. I'm not sure they would be entirely happy to release me from my charges and permit me to raise a baby," he explained carefully.

"But you've done good," she pointed out.

"Not enough to warrant what you're hoping."

Natasha frowned, reconsidering things. After five minutes though of still not thinking of a better place, she heard him sigh dramatically. He stood from the bed and held his hand out to her. "I know that you don't want to go to the Helicarrier," he started. "But I think that it is best for the time being. If we are going to Asgard then I would think that Thor would wish to go with us. We need the Tesseract anyways."

"We'll go?" she asked, feeling a leap of excitement tumble through her body.

Loki nodded slowly. "Odin forbid, I refuse the cripple anything," he said with a teasing smile, one that she eagerly returned, recognizing the jest.

"Being pregnant does not make me a cripple, Immortal God!" she regarded.

"That big bump on your forehead does though, Mortal Woman," he teased, before pausing. "May I give you your normal clothes?"

The question, posed so innocently made her smile. "I guess it wouldn't hurt."

She looked down at the fading hospital gown to see a loose pair of jeans and a red t-shirt drape themselves over her body. She gave him an encouraging smile just before he reached to grab her hand.

"Wait!" she yelled, letting go. "I need to say goodbye to Brigitte. She'd be worried." She didn't wait for him to protest, merely abandoning the room. She thought she heard him mutter "Stupid mortals" under his breath, but that didn't stop her from searching out the brunette.

Spotting her in the middle of the waiting room, she smiled happily, letting her know that all was well. "You were right," she said. "I just needed to talk to him."

Brigitte nodded carefully, not looking as convinced of her pep talk as she was before she met the god. "He's um… kinda big." Natasha didn't say anything, feeling confused. "What did he do to you, Natalie? He didn't um… hit you, did he? Because if he did, then I think that you're making a mistake. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knew that I pushed you into the arms of an abusive asshole."

Natasha shook her head. "He's not like that, I promise."

"Is he listening right now? Just give me some sort of sign that I need to call the police."

"Brigitte, stop it!" Natasha exclaimed. "There is nothing wrong with Lo-Luke. He's a good man. Do you honestly think that I'd be the type of woman who would let herself get abused by anyone?" While knowing that the truth of that question wasn't exactly what Brigitte would want to hear, Natasha hoped that it would be enough to calm her down enough to let her go. "We're going to go. People from work have been worried about me."

"What kind of work did you say you were in again?" she asked curiously.

Natasha blinked nervously. "Notary…"

"And you met this man how?"

"He works in banking," Natasha explained falling back on their original story they created when they first started out as a team. "Spilled coffee on me."

"He's a Brit."

"Yeah, he moved to the States a couple of years ago," she continued.

"You live in the States?"

"I thought my accent was a dead give-away," Natasha explained, feeling shocked that her friend would actually put up this much of a fight.

"And you ran from a man who apparently doesn't abuse you… all the way to Munich, Germany…"

"It was someplace that we always wanted to go when we were together. We even took a couple of business trips here when we first started going out. It was here that I actually fell in love with him. When I ran… I thought that I would just go back to the place where it all started. I thought that maybe I could scrub it clean, get it out of my memory. Make Munich a household for different memories, ones that didn't involve him. But then, when he got here, and when we were talking… I realized that I came here because I knew that he would eventually follow me. And I knew that this would be the place where he would look. Because he just knows me that well Bridge. I promise I know that I am making the right decision by going back with him. I just wanted to come out here to say goodbye. And to tell you that I wouldn't have been able to get through all of this without you. And to give Max my love." Natasha smiled, leaning over to hug her friend close to her, delivering her parting words softly, "I love him. And I don't joke about something like that, Brigitte."

Brigitte sighed, wrapping her arms around her friend tightly. "You better send me pictures of the baby when it gets here," she demanded, pulling away to wipe at tears that entered her eyes.

"Of course," Natasha agreed, not acknowledging the fact that there probably wouldn't be very many cameras in Asgard.

Unable to spend anymore time, Natasha gave the woman one last fleeting hug before turning tail and walking out of the hospital. Loki stood there patiently, a happy smile on his face, but that quickly disappeared when he held his hand out for her, as if afraid she would refuse him.

"I have to hold your hand to teleport, don't I?" she teased, slipping her fingers through his in a familiar hold. Like yesterday, she could still remember how those same fingers felt in hers the first time they held them. Confident and strong. That wasn't the same feeling she got from his fingers now. Then again, after everything they'd been through, it was impossible, she supposed, that they would come out anything like how they started. But now his fingers were timid, knowing of the humiliation they put each other through. Gentle too, due to their growing feelings for one another since that first hand-holding.

The world blurred in front of her, the memorized greens and blues of Munich, Germany, faded into remembered grays. Feet landed on metal flooring, the cold from the tile seeping through her thin shoes and dancing up her sinewy legs. The hold on her was terrifying, and she subconsciously clutched his hand tighter, almost afraid that the intimidating floor would swallow her whole if she gave it the chance.

"Are you alright to move now?" he asked quietly, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "It's been a while since you've teleported."

Natasha gave him a weak smile. If he thought her clinginess was due to the teleporting, she wasn't about to deny that. What kind of spy would she be if she so easily admitted her fear of being back where she belonged? In this lifestyle? "I'm fine now," she agreed, allowing him to lead her through the hallways of the Helicarrier to the conference room.

Where she saved the world. Once… Twice…

Where she was called out on by Thor and Tony about her and Loki's relationship.

Where she was welcomed back into the land of the living by all of her teammates and Fury.

It should be a sacred place. One where she felt relaxed and at home. So then why did she feel as if puppet strings were trying to make their gnarly roots in her flesh?

The hiss of the door opening made her jump and place her hands protectively around her belly, staring up at the intruder.

"You're home," the deep voice announced, and an accompaniment of shuffling feet grew louder as they bombarded their way into the room. Bulky arms covered her from every direction, and this was one feeling that she knew she could never hate or be afraid of. Her teammates, her brothers, all there for her and confessing their fear over her safety. Because they cared.

A strange emotion, most definitely, but it definitely wasn't one that was rejected. She had known for too long now that these men did care for her. Maybe not enough to tell her of Loki's plan, but that wasn't what mattered at the moment. What did matter, however, was the fact that she hadn't seen these men in two months, and she missed them more than she had ever realized.

* * *

**And there we are. I decided that I would post a little earlier this time, seeing as I finished the chapter super duper early. Don't expect to hear from me again though until sometime next week. Graduation, senior night, graduation party, grandparents and other assorted family in town all coming up for me. Thereby making me a very busy gal. Thanks for all of the support you all!**

**Oh, and I just wanted to throw this out there for any creative readers who happen to be… reading (can I sound any stupider?) maybe someone wants to make a fancy banner for this story? Or, doesn't have to be fancy, but maybe something fun. That would be so awesome. I mean, we've got a great one for right now, but… think it needs a mark of its own, you know? So, send me a PM if you are interested! AND TO SWEETEN THE POT! Whoever does decide that they want to make a banner for the story, I will write you a one-shot of whatever you want. Just no smut. :D This doesn't interfere with our 250****th**** reviewer contest thing, so no worries. And for this ONE TIME, even if you have gotten a one-shot already, I will still write you another one if you make the banner. So, this is open to everyone. :D So excited!**

**Remember, let me know if I'm an utter failure at keeping them in character. I promise I won't take it badly. Just please don't flame? Constructive criticism is a heck of a lot more helpful than simply telling me I suck. (Which none of you have actually done - so thanks for that!)**

**I'll shut up now. :D**

**Love you all lots!**

**- Books**


	26. Like Riding a Bike?

_**Chapter 26 – Like Riding a Bike?**_

** Hello, my darlings! I am back! Things are starting to wind down for me, thank God. Therefore, I should be able to get back on a regular updating schedule. I hope. We will have to see; I hate promising things that I don't know for sure that I can keep.**

** So, just a little clarification: the banner would be the little picture that represents this story. I already have a volunteer to do one for me, and I cannot wait to see what we get. :D**

** And we are only 13 reviews away from hitting that 250 mark! So excited! Gosh, to think that we are a quarter of a way from 1000! That is absolutely incredible to me. (Not like I am expecting this story to reach 1000 reviews or anything; just making a comment) I just wanted to thank you guys so much for being as responsive to this story as you are. I have several other stories on this site, but this one has the most reviews, and it's just all very surreal to me sometimes when I think about things. I also wanted to make a quick thank you to whoever added me to the community "Calling All Avengers!" I know that the thank you is sorely belated and everything, but I actually didn't notice it until very recently. It means a lot to me, whoever you are! :D I think I actually paraded around my room doing a particularly shameful happy dance. Just so you know. :D**

** Onto the story once again! And keep the opinions of BlackFrost baby coming! Love to hear them! Regardless of support or not!**

** Disclaimer: While never ever owning the Avengers or Marvel related things, I feel like you would after a bad break up: lots and lots of ice cream required.**

* * *

Having Natasha back within arm's reach was both a blessing and a curse, Loki had come to learn. A blessing because he could look at her again. He could witness her beauty. Could listen to her harmonic, raspy voice as it sent shivers down his spine. There were even times when she was close enough for him to smell that addictive vanilla scent that followed her.

But that was just it: the spy was elusive and rarely ever close enough to him for him to do anything. In the entire week that she had been back on the Helicarrier, they had spoken perhaps half a dozen times. Each of those times being exceptionally awkward, no less. She made it very clear that a part of her still didn't trust him, and she made it equally clear that if she didn't have to be in his presence, she wouldn't be. He didn't know what that meant for their permanent vacation to Asgard, but he wasn't about to bring it up when she was still this fragile about all of it. It didn't seem right.

He supposed that it was ridiculous of him to think that they would fall back into their chaotic routine the moment her feet landed back in the S.H.I.E.L.D facility. She was still antsy. And something told him that it wasn't just being around him that was making her that way. Something inside of her mind had snapped the day she left him. He wasn't exactly sure what it was, and he knew better than to pry about it right now. He just knew that Loki wasn't the only thing in the world that she angry with.

Watching her acclimate back into the spy life was difficult. He could see her struggle, and he knew that there really was nothing that he could do to help her. She didn't want his help. There were things that she once found solace in doing, and because of the growing fetus in her belly, she couldn't do them. She couldn't spar. She couldn't work out the way she used to. Even firing her weapons wasn't exactly something that was encouraged, but she did this anyway. Loki wanted to help her. He wasn't sure how he would; but he knew that he wanted to. Maybe sit with her. Let her know that she wasn't as alone as she felt.

Loki wasn't even sure that she had gained enough courage to tell the rest of her team that she was with child. That denial (of sorts) stung Loki deeper than he would have expected. Already he knew that the majority of her team wasn't technically in support of their relationship to begin with. Loki was a loose cannon with a history of selfish and violent tendencies that often ruined relationships. And after his latest stunt, the team was even less receptive to the idea that he was her knight in shining armor. But even through all of that, Natasha had once been proud to be with him. She had made it known that she was comfortable with Loki as her partner and she would defend him regularly. Now? Now, she ignored his presence, and would be ignoring their baby if not for her physical change of habits.

He sipped at his coffee leisurely, watching his blonde lover across the cafeteria, sitting alone with her small bowl of fruity and whole wheat cereal. The majority of the Avengers would still be asleep at this hour, he knew. Tony, Bruce, Thor, and perhaps even Barton would be in their dormant stages. Steve, he knew would be training in the gym with Maria like he had been since the end of the war. Only his Black Widow repeatedly woke on her early schedule, right around his own wake up time coincidentally.

Frowning at their obvious separation and her clear choosing of ignoring his presence in the empty cafeteria with her, he set his coffee down and stood, walking over to her table. He pulled out a chair and plopped down in the seat across from her, watching her become even more absorbed in the cereal.

"You've been awfully quiet," he mentioned.

"I haven't had anyone to talk to," she muttered back.

He scoffed and looked back to his table with his abandoned coffee mug. "I've been sitting there since you walked in, love."

He saw her flinch at the title, but made no attempts to amend the word choice. Natasha would always be the love of his life, whether she wanted to admit that or not. It wasn't exactly her choice who he loved and who he didn't, so she would just have to deal with his feelings. Besides, he thought smugly, he knew that she returned them, albeit grouchily and reluctantly, but she returned them nonetheless.

"Can't you annoy someone else?" she asked tiredly, avoiding his gaze.

"But annoying you is so much fun," he mocked playfully, searching for any sign of a smile, of the Natasha he had met on their adventures together. The cunning one, the mocking one. Where was she?

Unfortunately, it seemed, that she was devout in her idea of ignoring him, or at least of refusing his jests. She didn't respond to his taunts, merely staring at her bowl with food with boredom. Loki frowned at this sight, finding it far more painful to witness than her typical crass anger towards him. Anger he could manage – anger he could return. He had fallen in love with her when they were both in a rather angry state, meaning that it was familiar ground. But this was worse. Plain ignoring and self-loathing crushed far more than crude words and yells. It was the idea that he wasn't even good enough to be angry with anymore. He wasn't important enough to her to warrant a fight.

But that didn't mean that he was going to stop trying. He would get her back. He had to.

"How are you faring?" he asked roughly, leaning back in his chair and pretending to admire the ceiling tiles. Maybe a taste of her own medicine would help.

She scoffed, pushing away the bowl of cereal to fold her arms defensively across her chest. "I'm throwing my stomach up every morning when I wake up. And no matter how many times I brush my teeth, I cannot get the taste out. How do you think I'm doing, Loki?"

Loki fought to maintain his oblivious face, hiding the true worry that was festering in his gut at that very moment. "I trust that is normal in human anatomy and physiology, correct?" That was an innocent enough question, wasn't it?

"In case you didn't notice, I'm not exactly your textbook human," she remarked rudely. The pinch of annoyance in her voice brought a smile to his face. That was familiar.

"Didn't answer my question, Mortal Woman," he teased.

This title seemed to get more of a rise out of her than the previous, and she made no attempt to stifle the glare that she was sending his way. It was bait that he knew she wouldn't be able to resist: the desire to return the verbal joust with his respective nickname. It was a sure sign of growth.

"Yes," she finally growled, omitting the name. "It is normal."

"Then stop complaining," he growled back, stung by her refusal. He always knew that Natasha was stubborn, and would rarely ever do something that she did not wish to do. Again, it was one of the many traits she had that he had adored so much about her. But now, it was infuriating him, and he was beginning to hate her for it.

"You were the one who asked, Immortal God," she rallied, standing from her seat and looking at him, daring him to stand with her. And for a moment, he obeyed, more out of surprise than desire to accommodate to her wishes. She gave him her trademark smirk, just the uplift of a corner of those oh so luscious lips, and walked off, long legs earning her the title of Black Widow.

Of course, he was never one for rules, and quickly abandoned the cafeteria, running after her. She had to know that that was his intention, didn't she? Why else would she call him that? And how many times had he actually stayed away from her when she told him to? Loki's step faltered at that question, watching as her heels were growing fainter in the distance, blonde hair bouncing in memorized curls of elegance.

He chased her, Loki realized, still watching as she grew smaller in the long hallways. But that had always been his endgame – want, take, have. Three simple steps that had rarely ever failed him before. At least for things that didn't involve something as obnoxious as taking over an entire realm, he supposed. But even now, he was beginning to realize that he had treated Natasha much like his other possessions. He wanted her, (always did, really), he had the opportunity to take her (gladly), and he even had her for a while. Yet the second he sensed doubt in her resolve, he realized that he had followed the instinct to chase her. Track her down, revert her back to his again.

Maybe that was what did it.

He couldn't deny that there had been many a time in his life that he had craved for solitude and was refused the privilege. It was just another one of those things that drove the wedge between him and his brother. He hated being crowded. And he knew just as well that Natasha shared that feeling just as deeply and as passionately as he did. And he never allowed her a moment's peace because she was his, and he wanted her. Maybe, like him and his brother, this was also a fundamental part of what caused the rift between him and Natasha now.

Loki had no doubt in his mind that he was in love with her. That was clear, and it couldn't be clearer even if he were to be trampled by a bilgesnipe. And he knew that there was no other woman in the universe that he would rather be with and have at his side. But maybe there were other parts to the emotion that he hadn't quite comprehended yet – certain repercussions and compromises that needed to be made. All along, he was treating her as if he owned her. Granted, he knew that he wasn't the only one in the relationship that felt like ownership was the only game in town. Natasha had marked her territory just as he had. And, he supposed that that made it all the more desirable while in the thick of it. Knowing that you were irrevocably someone else's property, it had its appeal.

Then again, he also had to realize that it wasn't just about the claim that they had made on one another. Exclusive rights, he thought with a smirk. The game had changed quite dramatically since that vehement declaration. Now it was just rights to kill, but rights to have in any regard. Rights to love, rights to cherish, rights to own, it was all the same now.

In any case, there was a tiny, defenseless being that was currently residing in his love's belly, growing each day. This baby was a part of their exclusive rights agreement now, though the terms had definitely become more than black and white. Probably more like a murky, dazing gray that kept the two of them at bay now.

Loki thought back to his problem at hand, staring at the hallway with disdain. Naturally, Natasha had taken a turn somewhere down the hall, evaded from his sight. And while perhaps, it seemed to him that she wished to be chased (the saying of his nickname being enough evidence of that), he wasn't sure what his next course of action needed to be. More than anything he wanted to be by her side, even if that meant holding her hair back while she vomited. He had a part in the conception, and it seemed only right that he have a part in the pregnancy and the birth and the life of the child. He and Natasha had already agreed on this much. But their relationship was another matter entirely.

He had to let her go, he decided. If chasing her was what pushed her away in the first place, then he was determined not to make the same mistake twice. Let her come to him. She eventually would; that was just the Natasha Romanoff way. How long until that point, he didn't know. But, he did know that she would probably be in a better mood when she finally did meet with him. And that was all that mattered at the present.

* * *

Natasha paused in her walk, turning her heel and looked down the hallway, expecting to see a flash of blue and green before being overtaken by her pursuer. She even had the accompanying smile, the 'you caught me' smile.

But he wasn't there. Brows furrowed in confusion, she took a tentative step back in the direction she came from, peeking her head around the corner. He wasn't there.

She wanted to feel smug about it, that she had finally won something for once, but all she felt was a sense of loneliness. Even through her worst moods and temperaments, she had always been able to rely on Loki to be there. If she said to leave her alone, she was guaranteed hours of his presence. Now, having him actually listen to her… well it came as quite a shock.

All good/bad feelings were quickly ruptured however, when she felt her stomach heave uncomfortably. Covering her mouth with her hand, her mission became solely to get to the nearest restroom and empty the contents of her stomach, little there may be.

Once finished, she stared at herself in the mirror, looking for a trace of that secret agent from before. She was looking for the spark, the fighter, the Widow. And the only thing she saw staring back at her was a tired, weakened, lonely blonde. Disgusted with the new image, she washed her mouth out, or tried to at least.

"It won't go away," she muttered, spitting the filthy water out into the sink. "The taste…" she continued, trying again, finding the same results. "It won't go away; it won't go away." The urgency in her voice was beyond help at the moment, and even with the thought of another woman trespassing in her personal space in the public restroom, her fear continued. "Why won't it go away?!" she yelled, tears pooling in green eyes as her attempts remained unfruitful.

It was too much. Emotions, hormones, little chemicals dancing in her head, all of it hurt, and she couldn't make it stop. Why was she like this? Why couldn't she be _her? _A lifetime of pain and destruction done to her and caused by her, and it was the life inside of her that finally broke her. Loki had had a hand in it, and he had been leading her to his moment, but it was this baby that finally pushed her over the edge. At least with Loki, she could still fight, could still kill, could still have control over her body and its functions. Control. Control, control, control, and she had lost every ounce of it the moment she learned of this baby. Foods she once loved, the baby rejected. Foods she once proclaimed to hate, the baby loved. Throwing up because of the baby, hurting because of the baby, feeling this terrible because of the baby!

The faucet was still running when she sank down to the tiled floor, sobbing uncontrollably now, because of the baby. She wanted to scream and to tear her hair out of her head. A part of her even didn't want the baby anymore. Well, right now, the majority of her didn't want the baby anymore. What possessed her to think that she, the Black Widow, a trained assassin who was abused in every capacity in almost every relationship she had, would be a good mother? What could she do to raise a good child? Would it even be human? How could she raise a good alien then? How could she do this on her own? How could Loki do this to her? How could he put her in this place, ask her questions when she was convinced she wasn't supposed to know the answer?

The bathroom door flung open, and instantly, her mind told her to stop the tears, but they wouldn't. Through the tears, she saw him, and shook her head bravely, trying to push away the outstretched arms. She had to learn how to do this on her own.

"Tasha, come on," he hummed, ignoring her pushy hands and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "Come on," he repeated, calloused hand washing over the pretty blonde locks, lips pressing comfortingly against her temple. "You're gonna be alright," he continued to murmur until her sobs were reduced to the occasional hiccup.

"Clint, there's something I haven't told you," she finally whispered, pulling away and looking into his eyes, searching desperately for the best friend she needed.

* * *

Pain erupted on Loki's jaw when his blue eyes snapped open. Reaching up, he clutched the offended area, staring at his attacker with surprise. Barton's stone cold eyes were glaring daggers into his flesh, and Loki instantly knew what the punch was for.

Uneasily, Loki stood from his bed, holding his hands out in front of him in a gesture of surrender. "I swear I didn't do it on purpose," he started, feeling anxious. He knew that it wasn't likely that Clint was going to believe him, but instincts told him that he had to try anyways. "I didn't even know that it was possible. I had no intention of something like this happening. It came as much of a shock to me as it did to her. I didn't even believe that it was mine."

Clint huffed angrily before sitting down in one of the cushioned chairs, fists clenching and unclenching. "I know," he muttered darkly. "She told me everything. And I believe her. I just had to punch you based off of principle," he finished, burying his face in his hands. "I don't know what I need to do to make this better. She says that she wants to keep it, and I respect that, but from what I saw, keeping it was not what she wanted to believe."

"Is there anything that I can do?" Loki asked. "What was wrong with her? Is she alright?"

"I don't have an answer to any of those questions," Clint replied hesitantly. They fell silent for another moment, Clint's glare resuming its place over Loki's form. "You really have no idea how much I loathe you, do you?" he asked.

Loki chuckled mirthlessly. "I was beginning to wonder where that Barton had gone."

"He never left."

"Just got better at tolerating then," Loki conceded with a nod.

Clint's jaw tightened as he stared at the god. As much as he really did hate the guy, he could see the lines of worry that were cloaking his angular features. And he could see the shimmer of fear that was dancing in his eyes. Not because of him and what he could do to him. Loki was well informed of the fact that Natasha would have provided him a type of immunity in her description of her physical status. And aside from the growing purple splotch on his jaw, there was nothing more that Clint could or would do.

Loki feared for her. Just her.

Clint swiped at his own mouth, trying to hide the insecurity he was feeling. It wasn't often that people found him harmless, and he had to admit that he didn't exactly like the feeling. And while he knew that Loki had rarely ever feared him before, there at least had been a respect there. Or at least somewhat. "You need to talk to her, Loki," Clint ordered, standing up, ready to take his leave.

Loki's fear seemed to intensify at the suggestion, and while there was a quirk of his upper lip, it was clear that the idea was not exactly high up on Loki's list of priorities. "I wouldn't know what to say…" he started, looking miserable now as he took his seat back on his bed.

"I think it's just that you don't want to talk to her," Clint remarked, knowing full well how Loki would be inclined to take the comment.

"That cannot be further from the truth."

"You're avoiding her because you're scared of her."

"I don't want to upset her, more like," he argued.

"Because she is just peachy with you right now, isn't she?" The retort stifled any further words from the god. "She is stubborn. We both know that. Too stubborn to admit that she needs someone right now. And I swore to her that I would be there every step of the way, but there are certain limitations to what I can do. She's angry with you, yes. She's been angry with you for months, and eventually, she will have to let it go."

"She is still angry with the Russians and what they did to her decades ago, and you are telling me that she will eventually let it go?" Loki responded with a scoff. "Clearly you don't know her like you proclaim that you do."

Clint smiled sadly. "Guess it's a good thing then that you're immortal. You've got all the time in the world, don't you? See, that's the part that I can't really be a part of. I'm equipped for anything the world throws at me right now, but give it another ten, twenty years. I'll be lucky if I'm even alive at that point. And what help could I give? I don't know the first thing about kids, and at times, I still even doubt ever being one, myself."  
"You think that I know how to care for a child? I'm over 1000 years old, and it is easy to say that my experience as a child is practically forgotten in that span of time. How am I supposed to know what to do when I can't even recall details of my own childhood? Plus, I'm from a different planet! I have no idea how customs are here on Midgard. I don't know what these children here do to have fun. How am I supposed to be of any help?"

Clint shrugged. "Picture what she's feeling," he recommended with a smug smirk.

Loki's countenance morphed from fear to utter terror, and even he couldn't mask the new emotion from the skilled agent. "I need to talk to her," he agreed, making quick to leave the room, only turning around for a moment to look at the spy. "Where is she?"

* * *

To say that her morning episode had been a fleeting low point in her day would be a lie. Natasha was now fully determined to wait out the next seven months of pregnancy in her room. Her limitations were growing by the day, and there wasn't any purpose in making believe that she was still the woman that she was when she first left this boat.

The metal on her door thudded with a soft fist, and without needing to even open her eyes to witness her visitor, she knew who it was. "I don't want to talk to you," she growled, rolling over on her bed and facing the wall. Be strong.

She heard him sigh in exasperation but it was clear that he had not made another move in her direction. "Then we don't have to talk," he finally muttered, closing the door. Light foot falls danced on the floor, coming to stand beside her bed. The mattress sank with his weight, though still, he refused to lay a hand on her, which she appreciated. After just gaining control over the tears, the last thing that she wanted to do was to start crying again.

"I'm scared," he said quietly, stunning her to a point where she began rotating in the bed, freezing a second later when she realized that she was merely being reeled right back into his trap all over again. So instead, she settled fully into the bed, closing her eyes tightly now, ignoring his presence.

"I told you that –"

"You didn't want to talk to me," he finished. "Yes, I know that. But that doesn't necessarily mean that I do not want to talk to you." Natasha frowned, feeling that she should have known better than to allow her tongue to be that unguarded around him. He chuckled, a sound that she should have hated with a passion though only felt a spark of curiosity instead. "That's something that I have always admired about you. You keep your emotions and your feelings so well wrapped underneath that uncaring exterior. You don't need other people to rely on. And you don't want other people to relay your troubles in. I've always proclaimed to be like that, but I think that we both know that when it comes to these sorts of things… I can be rather demanding. Even violent if things should not go the way that I wish them to. But not you. How is that?"

She bit her lip harshly, refusing to give him any kind of an answer. But eventually, his silent patience was enough to draw an answer of sorts out of her. "I didn't have anyone to talk to growing up. I learned how to get along without company."

Loki sighed, carefully resting his hand on her shoulder, thumb swirling around in comforting circles. "We will be there for our child, won't we?" he asked slowly, afraid of the answer.

Natasha nodded briefly before he saw her shoulders begin to shake. "I don't know how to be there," she whimpered, tears coating her throat and making it hard to speak.

Loki frowned, unsure of his next move, but figuring that he needed to try anyways. Gently, he reached for her hand, taking it and placing it under his lips and gifting it with tender kisses. Her sobs hesitated for a second before she threw herself into another bout of tears. She retracted her hand roughly, only to sit up in her bed and throw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. "I don't think I can do this," she heaved. "I don't know how to be a mother. How am I going to be a mother? I can't really even remember my own mother! I don't even know if she was good or bad to me. How will I know if I'm good or bad to our baby? What if I'm bad at it? What if it hates me? Loki, I just want it to like me." Hysteria was evident in her voice, and she knew that. She knew that she hated appearing this weak in front of him, but she also knew that these emotions would most likely only gain ground the more often she tried to withhold them from him. Perhaps expelling the fear now would give her some sort of advantage over this pain and worry in the future.

"Just tell me what you want me to say, and I will say it," he murmured, kissing the top of her head with care.

She hiccupped, clutching at the front of his shirt for dear life. "Tell me what you're afraid of. Because of this baby," she begged, pulling away only slightly to look into his eyes. She would know if he was lying to her about it.

"I hated my father. Or rather, I couldn't seem to find the approval I craved from my father. I was lied to and had my whole life fabricated for simply a political gain. I cannot tell you how much it worries me to think that I could do something like this with our child. I don't want them to feel as I did growing up – feeling unappreciated and unloved, looked at like an outsider by everyone surrounding them. I'm like you, love. All I want is for this baby to like me. And everyone I know, besides you and Thor, and maybe my mother, hates me. I'm not good enough for them, and I'm always lacking in some field or another. I don't want my child to look at me like the world does And with everything that I have done in my past, how could it not? I'm a monster, after all."

As he finished, she noticed that she now wasn't the only one who had tears in her eyes. He was just as sentimental about the whole prospect of parenthood, and it helped to know that she wasn't the only one with insecurities about the whole thing.

"I was abused growing up," she said, knowing that he already knew practically every tendril related to her past, but she had to say it anyway.

"I was lonely," he added, seeming to understand. She just wanted to get it all out. Expel the worries.

"I was a part of a conspiracy."

"I didn't learn I was adopted until recently."

"I killed families."

"I went for world domination."

"I hate emotions."

"I don't care about people."

Natasha chuckled, the pain and fear sedated for the time being. The tears slowed in their descent out of her eyes, and she sweetly reached up to cup his cheek in her hand. At least this was something that was familiar to her amidst all of the chaos. "Do you still care about me though?" she asked quietly, staring at the pattern her thumb was making on his skin.

She watched his lips turned upwards in a smile. "You know that it is a lot more than simple caring where you are concerned, Natasha," he assured.

"And the baby?" she continued, meeting his eyes again. "Do you care about the baby?"

Loki's smile grew, hand falling to land on her stomach. "More than I thought possible."

Natasha nodded, pleased with the answer. "Promise me that we are going to be good parents?" she tried, seeing the smile droop off of his features at the question.

"Love, you know that I can't do that."

"But you're the God of Lies," she begged. "Please?"

"When it comes to something as serious as our child, I'm making a vow to myself not to lie about something like that," he said firmly and with a nod of determination, ending the discussion.

Natasha sighed, but accepted the answer. It made sense for him anyway, what with his father's track record in lying. It was only right that Loki wouldn't want to keep secrets like that in their little family. In fact, she saw it almost as a sign of good parenting. That he was going to try to be a better parent than his father was to him. She was sure that there wouldn't be a second child in their crazy life, but she knew that if there was, Loki would make it his ultimate goal to prevent favoritism from occurring in his eyes. "That's answer enough for me," she said softly. She smiled more then and looked up into the ice blue, feeling calmness envelop her as the words dripped from her tongue, "Immortal God."

The illumination that his face underwent was unbelievable, and almost immediately, she felt lips against her, begging and teasing and needing. Oh, it felt so good to be needed. She had almost forgotten what this felt like, having him. His lips were harsh on hers, but she returned the sentiment just as passionately as he did, burying hands in his raven hair.

Breaking away for air, Loki stared firmly at her, unable to stop himself from leaning in once more to recapture those full, now bruised, lips. Vanilla engulfed him and overwhelmed his senses, cradling him close to her as he kissed her, thrilled beyond measure that she was actually returning it.

When they finally did pull away for good, they looked at each other in silence, neither one of them exactly sure what it was that they wanted to say. Or rather how to say it. Moments like these, all Loki could feel himself wanting to do was tell her just how much he really loved her. He wanted to further wash away at the insecurities motherhood brought her, to show her just how wonderful she will be with their child. However the thought of her being frightened or angry with him again prevented him from speaking. So, instead, he relied on his eyes, trying to convey his emotion to her through them, and along the way, he figured that she must have recognized the look. Her porcelain face softened, and she smiled gently. While not exactly returning the loving gaze with one of her own, she did hold his hand, entwining their fingers with fascination.

"I'm not ready for that yet," she whispered, knowing that he would understand the cryptic jargon. He nodded in agreement and allowed her to fiddle with his hand. Any contact with Natasha was long overdue in his mind, and any touch that he could possibly get from her that in any way resembled something loving, he was going to bask in it.

It seemed like hours when the real world hit them again, and maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. All they knew was that the baby had officially had its fill of romance, and was determined to display just how sick they were of it.

Natasha dove into her bathroom, heaving into the toilet without abandon. There couldn't be anything in her stomach by now, but that didn't seem to prevent the baby from upchucking it anyway. Loki was at her side in an instant, running nimble, cool fingers through her hair and keeping it away from her face. It was embarrassing to be seen like this by him, but she couldn't deny the comfort it brought her to know that she wasn't alone in this.

Once finished, he helped her to her feet, washing away the remnants on her mouth with a wet cloth. He didn't even leave her when she went to brush her teeth again. "This is only supposed to be morning sickness," she complained after spitting for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Not anytime of the day sickness," she added.

Loki chuckled and looked at the clock that sat perched on the counter. "By all accounts, love, it is still technically morning. You just got up early." He pointed to the clock, Natasha reading it with a frown. 10:07. "A little late in the morning, but morning nonetheless." He paused. "Is this meant to remain throughout the entire pregnancy?"

"Only the first couple months or so. First trimester stuff," she muttered. "Then comes the crazy foods, and then the crazy hormones and the –"

"Hormones?" he interrupted, seeming to be confused with the word.

"Basically little chemicals that your body releases at certain times and in certain situations. When you're pregnant, your hormones are a little confused and as a result, I may be behave a little differently than I normally do. Getting angry and then getting extremely depressed, all in a matter of minutes. It's pretty dramatic stuff," she explained. "Not to mention me becoming the size of a house."

Loki's eyes widened as he took in the information, staring at her belly with anxiousness. "You're going to become the size of a house?!"

Natasha stared at her lover, trying desperately to remind herself that pregnancies must not be the same in Asgard. He was entirely naïve when it came to a Midgardian birth, and she couldn't hold it against him. Meaning that laughing at him was completely out of the question. She sighed, giving a small smile. "I'll get you a book," she said, rolling her eyes and leaving the bathroom.

* * *

** So sorry that this took me so long to finish. From graduation to working, to college plans to new computer to must-hang-out-with-everyone-I-have-ever-met-ever… I've been busy. But I got this done, and I hope that you guys enjoyed it. Not exactly full of happy stuff, and kinda less with the dialogue stuff but… Right now, they're both in a tricky place, and it'd be ridiculous to think that they'd automatically be gun-ho with parenting. Especially after how they were raised. Everything should work itself out eventually. At least I hope so.**

** So, a couple of people have been asking about the banner thing. Yes, the banner would be the little picture that accompanies the story. Like how currently, this banner is of Tom and Scarlett kissing with Jeremy standing right there. If any of you want to make a different picture, that would be awesome. Something a little more personal to the story, you know? And, like I said, you'd get a one-shot! (Yes, I will resort to bribery, if I have to.)**

** Speaking of one-shots, remember that we only need 13 more reviews until we hit the big 250! And that reviewer gets a one-shot! Just make sure that you have an account so that I can contact you and work out the details. So excited!**

** Love you all lots!**

** - Books**


	27. My Natasha is a Redhead

_**Chapter 27 – My Natasha is a Redhead**_

** Hello, my darlings! How is everyone? So, I promise that this will be brief: first off, we have only three more reviews until that 250 mark! And number 250 gets a one-shot dedicated to them! Yay! But, as always, make sure that you have an account and your PM is enabled. That just makes it easier for me to communicate with you. :D And remember, I write for any pairing, any story-line, even if it means a Clint/Nat pairing… *sigh* I hope not, but it's yours to choose! Just keep in mind, no lemons!**

** And secondly, I would like to announce that we have our new banner! Take a look, peeps! Isn't it one of the coolest pieces of art that you have ever seen in your entire life? I love it, and I think that it totally reflects the story down to a T. So, thank you so much, **Himitsu-no-Paradise **for the entry! I couldn't have come up with a better one myself. :D So, like I promised, you get a one-shot about anything that you want. Just no M rated things. You deserve it, my dear!**

** Let's get on with the story now, shall we?**

** Disclaimer: If I had the privilege of calling Loki my own… well, let's just say that I probably wouldn't have time to be writing for you people. ;D**

* * *

"When are you planning on telling them?" he asked her carefully. Natasha sighed, running a hand through blonde hair and making sure to avoid his blue eyes.

"You've asked me this before, Loki," she answered tiredly, wishing for him to drop the subject. "And I've already told you that I don't know when I plan on telling them. It's a lot to take in. I've only just started getting used to the idea of another life inside of me, and I'm the mother! How could I expect a team of superheroes, some with anger-management issues, to be okay with this? This wasn't supposed to happen to my body, and I still don't know how it did."

Loki was quiet for a moment, sitting up from his position on her bed and hands disappearing from her stomach. "Are you ashamed?" he finally murmured, looking up into her green eyes for any trace of regret or shame in the emerald depths.

"Of what, exactly?" she teetered slowly, understanding the question just fine but feeling unwilling to answer him. She didn't know how to answer a question like that.

"Are you ashamed to mother my child?" he snapped. "A child of a monster."

Natasha bit her lip, chancing a glance at Loki who was staring at her deeply, as if trying to read her every thought. "I suppose that this is the point where I am supposed to deny the idea that you are a monster," she mentioned awkwardly, side-stepping the question.

"I already know full well how you regard me, Natasha. That is not the point." He paused, the staring only seeming to increase in its intensity. "Would you feel shame if it were Barton's?"

"Oh, God, not again," she complained, rolling her head back on the bedframe to stare up at the ceiling. There was no winning with him, was there?

"Just answer the question, Natasha. It isn't that difficult."

"I don't feel shame for being your child's mother," she finally claimed. "I don't know what I'm feeling about all of this, but I am fairly confident that it isn't shame."

"You didn't answer me."

"If I don't feel shame with you, how would I feel shame with him?" she retorted.

"Because I am worse and would deserve your shame more than him?"

She stood from her bed and walked up calmly to him. "You want to know what I feel if it were Clint's? Guilt. I would feel guilt."

"And the difference between the two?" he remarked rudely. "They are interchangeable."

"Shame would be the idea of being hurt because of what I did to myself. I helped give myself this baby, and I would consider it my fault. Shame is all internal and is against oneself. Guilt is for another person. Guilt would be what I've done to the people around me. If this baby were Clint's, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. You know that I don't look at him as anything more than a brother. I know that he cares about me more than that, and if I were to have given in, and if a baby was the product of that mistake… How would I tell the father of my child that it was a mistake?" she breathed, trying to get him to see reason. "I would feel guilt because I'd be hurting him."

"Does that mean that you don't consider this a mistake?" he asked immediately, quirking an eyebrow up at her, anxious for her reaction.

"What we did to create this baby was not a mistake, Loki," she answered slowly and thoughtfully. "At the time, it was the most right thing in the entire world, and even if a part of me hates you for what you did, I can't take that back, and I don't want to. For some ridiculous reason, I still have feelings for you, and I'm beginning to realize that I always will, regardless of what you do."

"You've forgiven me?" he continued, a flare of hope in his eyes.

"Forgive is a strong word. I don't know that I would go that far. I've accepted it. I've gotten over my initial anger and realized that there really is nothing that I can do about it." She scoffed. "I could probably kill myself again, and you would just bring me back again."

Loki frowned. "Don't talk like that."

"But just because I've gotten over it and accepted it, that doesn't mean for one second that my trust in you is restored. What you did was beyond breaking my trust, and I honestly don't know how that trust could ever be rebuilt. I'm not closed off to trusting you again, for the baby's sake. But you have your work cut out for you, Loki."

The prince nodded and tenderly reached up and brushed a blonde piece of hair out of her face. "So when does that mean you'll tell them?" he remarked with a hint of tease in his eyes, earning an eye roll from her, and a half-hearted slap at his wrist.

"I promise that I will tell them soon," she replied. "I can't give you a definite answer, but I just want to make sure that I have my explanation fool-proofed. I honestly would prefer to know all of the answers to all of their questions before going and talking to them. Like, I want to know how this actually happened. As far as I know, my body was shut down for children when I was young. This is physically impossible."

"A god can work miracles," he teased arrogantly, getting a small smile.

"You're saying that your juice is special?" she taunted right back.

"Oh, everything about me is special, love. You know that," he purred, his lips lowering down to hers slowly and hesitantly.

"Cocky bastard," she muttered before allowing his lips to close over her own. Even with everything that had happened between the two of them, she couldn't deny the rush she got whenever he kissed her. Every nerve ending seemed to explode with feeling, short-circuiting under the pressure. Even with cool hands, her skin burned where he touched her. And even with the roughness of their kiss, she could never get over the softness of his lips as they massaged her own.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes to relish the moment exchanged. Not a hair of chemistry had been lost between them because of her untimely departure. Everything about this woman still assaulted his senses, and he loved that.

"I love you," he said quietly, not expecting an answer in return, though he couldn't deny the twinge of disappointment when she simply buried herself in his embrace, not speaking. But it was going to be alright, he told himself. They were going to make it through this, just like they made it through everything else. Wouldn't they?

* * *

"When are you actually going to give me a challenge?" Maria asked playfully, swinging a powerful leg around to knock him in the side.

"I don't want to hurt you," Steve grunted, blocking the next attack of her fists.

Maria simply rolled her eyes, but accepted the answer anyways. It hadn't been the first time she had asked such a question, and it hadn't been the first time he had offered such a response. She understood it down to a point, but part of her wished he could let go and really fight for her.

Their sparring match ended ten minutes later, both drenched in sweat and panting from the exercise. "Why don't you want to hurt me?" Maria asked suddenly, sitting down on a nearby bench, drinking from a water bottle. She stared up at him curiously, interested in his suddenly stoic response.

"Are you serious?" Steve retorted, his brows furrowed in confusion. "Is this some new-age thing, or are you really asking me to hurt you?"

She shrugged. "No, it's still pretty illegal to beat up a woman," she replied.

"Then what?"

She shrugged, beginning to unwrap her knuckles from the white tape that clung to them. "I work for a government agency. I've sparred, killed, wounded, everything. It's not like I haven't been hurt before either. You don't have to go easy on me just because we happen to be in a relationship." She scoffed. "It's not like I go easy on you."

"Yes, well, I happen to be physically capable of taking hits all the time, if need be. I'm stronger than you by tenfold, and if I lost control for a second, I could possibly kill you," Steve argued.

Maria ceased her movements, watching as Steve pressed a white towel to his sweating forehead. She watched him in fascination for a brief moment, wondering how it was even possible for someone as sweet and gentle as him, could be frivolous in their remarks. "Nice to know that the only thing that keeps me alive when we spar is your control. Really, your confidence in my abilities is overwhelming."

Steve frowned and cautiously reached for a stray piece of hair that fell out of her pony-tail. She recoiled from the touch and looked angrily at him. "You think that I don't admire you? I understand perfectly well that women's roles in government capacities are difficult. And I know that you fought desperately to get to be where you are today and that's incredible. I just don't want to hurt you."

"Okay, I'll admit that most of these sparring sessions are completely a waste of energy for you. I know that you're good at what you do. But what about me? I come down here to train, and you're not training me. You're humoring me."

"You could easily take down any normal human being on this boat," he stated clearly, feeling his temper begin to fray.

"But I can't take down you –"

"You don't need to take down me!"

"I know that!" she yelled. "The point is, suddenly my life is filling up with all of these people that aren't just normal human beings. I fought for this position in order to be recognized, and call me a selfish bitch all you like, but I'm not ready to relinquish acknowledgment. Plus, what happens next time, when there is another foe in the world, and they are as big and bad as Loki? Or what if they are worse? Those are the people that I need to take down! And I don't stand a chance if you insist on not training me!"

"That's what the Avengers are for, Maria," Steve admonished, clearly not seeing the argument.

"Schmidt took Agent Romanoff and treated her like a rag doll. Agent Romanoff! And she wouldn't have made it out had it not been for Loki. What about me? If they could do something like that to her, what do you imagine they could do to me?"

"You wouldn't be targeted," he disagreed.

"Because I'm not important enough to be targeted," she added, waiting for him to disagree with her statement. When he merely shrugged and looked away, she felt her nerves snap, and she couldn't bear the sight of him any longer. Marching out of the training room with her head held high, and heart low in her stomach, she slammed the door, heading for the showers.

The nerve of him!

* * *

Steve stared at the spot she disappeared from, the remnants of her anger still very observant in the carnage she left behind. He didn't understand why she was acting in the way that she was, but he figured that he was probably to blame for her sudden sour mood. And at the moment, the aged Captain was rather torn. Part of him thought that if given the opportunity to speak with her that would be the best course of action. He could get her to see his point of view and then she would no longer be angry with him. But there was an instinctual part of him that definitely insisted to leave the woman alone. Clearly, she was severely angry with him, and it may not be the best idea to continue poking at an already raw subject between the two of them. Maybe she would speak to him when she was relaxed and wasn't ready to kill him.

So, Steve went to his own respective shower, listening intently to the sounds that were around him. When he turned his nozzle off, he cocked an ear and listened for any sign that her shower was still running. Finding no such evidence, Steve made quick to dress and vacate the room.

Deciding to go to the cafeteria, Steve almost instantly regretted his choice when he saw who he would have for company. It wasn't Maria, but at the moment, he really didn't know which was worse. Maybe, he thought, he would get lucky enough not to be noticed.

"Ah, the soldier," he heard, and automatically squeezed his eyes shut, pretending to vanish the arrogant accent of the god behind him. "Oh, grow up – obviously I am no longer a threat to your kind. Would it kill you to sit and converse with me?"

Steve finally gained the courage to turn around to look at Loki, making sure to hide all of his anger and reluctance behind a calm and cool mask. "You're not one to make friends. I don't see why we need to start now. Or with me," he added, with an awkward shift of a shoulder.

"I have no intention of making friends," Loki was quick to disagree, tracing a bored finger on the plain table he was sitting at. "I merely am without company and so are you, and there is no reason for us to not be without company together."

"Never seemed to bother you before…" Steve trailed off, eyeing the raven-haired god before him. Loki would never extend a hand for the mere pleasure of kinship with his comrades. There always had to be an ulterior motive, and whether he played for their team or not wasn't the question. Steve mentally scoffed. Loki didn't really even play for the Avengers. He played for himself. "What do you want?" he finally asked, unwilling to waste any more time dawdling on the faux innocence.

"Conversation," he responded easily and gestured to an open seat at his table.

Steve didn't take it. "About what?"

"About whatever topic comes up."

"Like what?" Steve tried again, eyes narrowing into defensive slits.

Loki rolled his blue eyes and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. "Obviously, I made a mistake by politely inviting you to join me in friendly chatter. Be on your way, and I will be on mine," he dismissed, waving a tired hand without parting his stare from the tiled ceiling.

Neither man moved and when it became apparent that Steve wasn't going anywhere, Loki fought to keep the smug smirk off of his pale face. Really the Captain was simply too predictable. He then had to fight the chuckle that leapt into his throat when he heard the grating sound of the metal chair scraping against the floor as he sat down across from him.

"What?" Steve demanded. Loki finally looked down from the ceiling, faking surprise.

"I thought you didn't want to sit with me?"

"This is all just some big game to you, isn't it?" Steve guessed, making Loki's grin falter for half of a second, but that seemed to be enough for the patriot. "That's just what I thought. What do you want? S.H.I.E.L.D. secrets and plans?"

"Why on Midgard would I give a damn about those?" Loki retorted.

"Because you're the God of Mischief."

"I thought you didn't believe in multiple gods?"

"Kinda hard not to when one is staring at you in the face."

"Glad to see you won the battle over ignorance."

"But you aren't the true God," Steve added with a smug smirk that sent Loki silently reeling in his seat. "So then what do you want if not that?" he continued, ending the subject.

"I don't want anything," Loki replied. "Maybe I was just looking for companionship for a while."

Steve arched an eyebrow and leaned back in his seat, folding bulging arms across his chest. "Isn't that what Natasha is for? That's why you brought her back, isn't it? Because you still wanted her companionship?"

"Conversation with one person, regardless of who that person may be, can prove to be quite limiting on one's character."

"In other words, she's angry with you," Steve simplified. "And she doesn't want to talk to you. Or the other way around."

"I do believe that my description painted a far nicer picture, but yes," Loki replied honestly.

"What'd you do now? Bring back her dead dog?"

Loki stared at the Captain with a bored expression, clearly not being entertained by the wit that he was trying to present. That didn't stop him from replying however, "Just point me in the direction of its grave." He paused. "Really, you ought to get over that. It was months ago, and you can't deny that you aren't happy to see her alive. What would you say if I were to offer to bring you blessed wench back? The one from your true time? I could restore her to her former glory and make her everything she once was. Young… beautiful, perfect…"

"I don't want that for Peggy, and she isn't a wench," Steve snarled.

"What do you want for her then? Death?" he rounded.

"She's lived a long life. And she's been happy for the majority of it too. She's done things that inspired millions. She's given women the courage to do something for themselves and for their country and not allow their gender to be determined by their success. She's lived a full life, and I would be damned if I took away her right to rest."

"So, your current wench looks up to her then, I would figure," Loki mentioned off-handedly. "Or rather, does she still feel as if she remains in her shadow?"

"Maria knows that Peggy was one chapter in my life, and that the chapter is over," Steve answered with a surprisingly calm voice. "She knows that what I felt for Peggy was real, and she knows that what I feel for her is real. But more importantly, she knows that I feel only for her now."

"Or she simply knows that it is ridiculous to be jealous of a woman who can barely get out of bed in the morning, let alone have sex."

"One more word, Loki, and I'm walking out of here," Steve warned.

Loki smirked, but held up his hands in surrender. "Another topic then?"

"How about the one where Natasha's mad at you. That sounds fascinating."

The god appeared to grumble under his breath but didn't do anything to deny the claim. "It's not really that she's angry with me, so much as I am angry with her," he finally admitted, looking incredibly uncomfortable in doing so.

"Seems like you're in a damn good spot to be pissed about anything that woman does."

"She seems to agree with your statement. Rest assured, Soldier, I still do not regret doing what I did for her."

"For you," Steve corrected. "What you did was not for her."

"She wasn't ready to die."

"No one ever is," Steve replied curtly, the sour look on his face being occasionally tainted by an even fouler scowl with an avalanche of memories draping across his mind.

"She hadn't fulfilled her purpose," Loki tried to reason.

"You are not the one who gets to determine that," Steve said dryly, his eyes glazing over with thoughts from the war, and Loki was beginning to get angry with the nonchalance for his own problems.

"I'm a god!"

"With childish tendencies and daddy issues. Not at all the kind of person who gets to weigh life in their hands and decides who survives and who doesn't."

Loki seemed affronted with the retort and for a moment remained silent, looking down at the pearly smooth table and then over at the table that she was sitting at just that morning. "You know how I feel about her," he finally muttered, the admittance tearing holes in his stomach and throat. It was the most he had ever said regarding their relationship to anyone but Clint or Thor. And he didn't really even like Steve enough to know that he could be trusted with that kind of information. The only thing that allowed him to say the words that he had was that he knew for certain that Steve knew his feelings. There was no sense in denying something that was too blatantly obvious.

"You love her?" Steve asked casually.

"I don't understand how you can ask such a stupid question," Loki growled, his hands wanting to clench into fists, though he remained calm and collected on the outside. He couldn't allow this fool to know what he was thinking.

"You didn't answer it," Steve pointed out.

"Yes, I love her."

"Why?"

Loki looked brusquely up at Steve, confusion washing over him in tidal waves. Why? What kind of question was that? He had never once considered why he was in love with Natasha, he knew that he was. Sometime in the start of their relationship, he would admit to asking how. But never why. "What?" he finally asked, keeping his mask firmly on his face.

"Why are you in love with Natasha?" Steve droned out simply.

"I don't have to –"

"I'll leave," the soldier threatened.

The god scowled at his companion, feeling anger trickle into his bones like a poisonous drug. But all at once, it dissipated inside him, or at least settled enough to hide behind a serene countenance. "She's one of the strongest women that I've ever met. She's beautiful and fierce and doesn't take no for an answer. She's smart, and she's witty," he finished.

Steve gave him a knowing smile that Loki found terribly unsettling. "You don't love her," he accused. At the sight of the god bristling up, he held up a hand. "You care about her most definitely. I'm not denying that. And I'm certain that at some point, you probably will fall in love with her, and she will probably fall in love with you. Because I honestly don't know if she ever loved you either. You just haven't reached that point in your relationship where you know that you really do love one another."

"And you know what love is supposed to mean?" Loki retorted.

"Yes. I've felt it," the soldier responded calmly.

Loki merely let out a low growl in answer to the taunt, watching his fingers begin to tap at the table as he tried to keep his burst of anger in check. "Who are you to tell me what love is supposed to feel like?" he demanded in quiet, but sharp tones.

Steve shrugged. "Why're you mad at her?" Blue eyes from both sides battled for dominance in the conversation, and Steve fought the urge to smirk at the tightness of the god's jaw. "Well, I suppose that it's a plus that you aren't going to rat out on her secrets when asked to," he commented politely, ending the battle with a blink. Loki remained silent. "If it's any consolation, Maria doesn't seem to be overly happy with me at the moment either."

The subject change brought out a metamorphosis in Loki, as he quickly tilted his head to the side in curiosity, and the tightness of his muscles relaxed. "Why?"

"She doesn't like the way that I help her train," Steve admitted, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and grimacing. "She says that she wants to really fight me, and she doesn't want me to hold back when we train."

"You'll kill her if you do that," Loki disagreed calmly, earning a glare. "Too blunt?"

"Very much so," Steve muttered. "But, in any case, yes, you're right."

"But it's about her independence, isn't it? That's what she wants, and she wants to feel as if she is truly a part of your team and not just someone who sits on the sidelines?"

"For someone who hasn't looked twice at her, you certainly can predict her," he commented.

"Let's say that I come from a familiar background and can empathize," Loki corrected hurriedly.

"Any way to fix it and raise her confidence?" Steve asked.

"I suggest finding an anthill and stomping on it," Loki remedied with a smirk. "Then again, ants are apparently very rebellious bastards and could revolt and conquer her…"

"Because she would definitely want to rule an anthill," Steve argued sarcastically.

"I did."

"You're psychotic. It doesn't count."

"Well that was rather rude."

"Honesty is the best policy."

"Now, if _that _isn't one the biggest lies –"

"Loki?" a feminine voice interrupted, making both men at the table freeze. The god in question carefully turned around, meeting a detached pair of green eyes.

At the sight of her, Loki turned back and focused solemnly at the table, refusing his heart the privilege of cringing in pain at the sight of her. "What do you want?"

He heard a disappointed sigh and then a shuffling of feet. "Rogers? Mind giving me and the god a moment alone?" Loki sneered in refusal, but watched with helpless eyes as Steve made his way from the cafeteria with a pitying look on his face that made Loki feel ill. "Not like you to chat up Steve," she mentioned, taking over the Captain's chair and staring at him. Loki's gaze on the table intensified. "You're being childish, you know."

"Then at least I will be able to relate to the child when it arrives," he snarled back.

"I told you that it was going to take time for me to be able to tell them about this," she reminded.

"When you said that the first time in that hospital, I accepted it. But we've been home for a while now, and unless you plan to wait until you're showing, I don't see your admittance coming any time soon."

"I've never been pregnant before, Loki."

"I've never fathered something as disgusting as a human, and yet I still want them to know." The words seemed to hurt Natasha as she sat there, the hard look on her face softening for the briefest of moments before she hid her disappointment under her mask once more.

"Are you really that upset about having a baby with a human?"

"Are you really that upset about having a baby with a god?" he retaliated.

"I asked you first."

"And you accuse me of being childish."

"Answer the damn question."

Loki finally looked at her, seeing as she tried to hide her insecurity around him. With any other person in the world, she would look like the epitome of a soldier, hardened and determined with her duty. But she looked like nothing more than a broken woman as she sat there in front of him. The ever-so-slight tremble of her upper lip, the shiftiness of her eyes, and the light tapping of her foot under their table were all clear signs to him that she was fearful of his answer. "Just because I care for you does not mean that I have in any way, shape, or form, developed an attachment to the rest of your species," he said clearly.

"That's not what you had said before…" she mentioned. "You said that you care about the baby."

"Because it's mine."

"It's not just yours, Loki." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "We talked about this just this morning – I don't know how you can have gone from accepting my answer then to being angry with my answer just a few hours later."

"I honestly don't know the answer to their either, love. When we talked this morning, I felt confident, and I was fine with you taking all the time that you needed. But now… Natasha, I've been waiting for what feels like forever for you to tell them, and you just… don't."

"Do you love me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything, Natasha," Loki frowned.

"Well, if you loved me, then you would wait for me to be ready for this," she simplified.

Loki took a moment to stare at his lover, watching as she perched herself higher in her chair, folding lithe arms across her chest in perfect smugness. It was clear to him that she was sure of his answer, and it wasn't really until that moment where he felt like he could finally understand the Captain and what he had been saying earlier. Loki had always accepted that he was a selfish being. He knew that about himself, and he really didn't think that it was something that he cared to fix about himself either. He was arrogant and confident, and he didn't really care.

But at that moment, he knew with every cell in his body that her statement was correct. And he knew that the Captain had to have been right too, as crazy as it seemed. How Rogers could even understand the inner workings of Loki's head better than he, himself, was a ponderous idea, and he didn't like it. However, that didn't make it any less true.

If he loved her truly, he knew that he would be alright with whenever she decided to tell the rest of her team about her current status. But he wasn't. He wanted them to know now. And he wanted her to understand just how much it was hurting him to deny his parentage to the child. Or to deny the child's existence entirely, he mentally corrected.

"Then, no, I don't," he stated honestly, watching her face carefully.

The smug smirk that had adorned her face quickly fell, and all at once, she seemed to deflate like an airless balloon. Her hair fell flatter against the sharp ridges of her porcelain face, which had begun to look more ashen than porcelain at this point. Her arms slowly uncrossed themselves, and her green eyes began to dull before him. "You don't," she said, and while it was phrased as a simple sentence, he could hear the poignant question reaching out for him to deny. He shook his head, confirming it instead.

Natasha nodded and looked down at her flat stomach, feeling not so full anymore. Well, she felt… empty, actually. Weightless, and as light as feather, she could almost feel her mind drift out of her body, leaving her hollow and on the brink of shattering. He didn't love her. She stared at him with hurt eyes, and she couldn't find anything in her to say to him. What do you say to someone who has just crushed your entire being like a brittle leaf? "Why?" she asked quietly. "You tell me that you love me one minute, and now you are telling me you don't. Is this some new idea of torture, Loki?"

"Seems to me that you're not exactly clean in all this either, Natasha," Loki reminded simply. "You walked in and out on me multiple times, switching between loving me and hating me."

"You betrayed my trust!" she exclaimed, feeling her heart beating erratically in her chest and not knowing what to do about it. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"So you are of the belief that it is okay for me to love you and trail pathetically after you with a bucket full of sentiments and emotions while you mock me and give me hope of returning them? I understand that you hate me for what I did –"

"I don't hate you anymore –"

"Did it sound like I was finished?" he snapped, and she closed her mouth. "I understood that you were unhappy with my decisions and my actions. I understood that you needed to separate yourself from me and be on your own. I understood that you didn't want to be around these people when you finally have the baby. I understood that it was going to take time for me to earn back your trust again, but really…"

"What?" she demanded, her voice sounding hoarse and broken.

"After everything that's happened… this woman you are now… this isn't my Natasha."

"I was never yours," she grunted, feeling her heart suddenly breaking inside her chest and feeling her defense mechanisms kick in.

"Once you would have said you were. That your heart was at least. And this isn't the Natasha I once gave my heart to." Loki began to blink rapidly, and it was then that she noticed that his eyes were wet with unshed tears, and the reality of what was happening stung her more than she cared to admit. "I'm not giving up on us, Natasha; know that. You are carrying my child, and if there is any chance that my Natasha will come back… I will be there for her. And if she doesn't… then I'll be here for you. I fell for you once, and I'm sure that I can do it again, and I'm sure that you can do it again too. But until then… maybe it's just better if we stop pretending that we are the same people we were before this happened."

"I'm not different," she mumbled. "Maybe you're different…"

Loki gave her a sad smile and stood from his seat and walked to her side. Tenderly, he reached out to her and wrapped a pale finger around a blonde piece of hair. She allowed him the touch, a part of her knowing that this may be the last time he did. "When was the last time you spoke with Barton?" he asked suddenly.

Too shocked to think anything more of it, she answered truthfully, "The day I got back."

He nodded. "When was the last time you asked for a mission?" he continued.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I can't go out on missions with the baby."

He nodded again. "When was the last time you looked at your snow globes?"

Her brain went to her large cabinet of snow globes in her room. "I don't know."

"And the last time you trained?" he continued, his finger still fiddling with her hair.

"Before I left. For the first time," she answered. "What does this have to do with anything?"

Loki nodded one last time. "You're different, love."

"Well what about you?" she remarked back, pushing his hand away.

"I spoke with Barton just yesterday. My purpose on this boat is not to go on missions. I look at your snow globes every time I am in your room with you. And I trained for several hours yesterday with Thor."

"What about the last time you did magic?" she retorted.

Loki looked affronted by the question, but didn't appear angry at all with it. "I went to Munich to find you with magic," he said easily.

Natasha sputtered for a moment, and Loki sighed, reaching out to play with her hair again. "My Natasha is a redhead. You are a blonde." After saying those crushing words, he gave her one last smile. "But I will try to fall in love with a blonde."

She watched with green eyes as he didn't even bother walking from the room, his form fading out as he teleported to another area on the boat, leaving her alone and feeling sick to her stomach. And she knew that that wasn't at all because of the new life that was growing inside of her. It was because of the Silver-tongued god, and that inflicted more damage than any baby ever could.

* * *

** Now, I'm asking nicely to please not hate me for this chapter. I know that it took forever to get up here, but I've been struggling with this chapter for a long while. (Basically since I updated the last time) And it took me a long time to get it to the point where I actually am okay with it.**

** I know that a lot of you were hoping to see them pick up right where they left off, but I'm sure that you all knew that that was just an impossibility. They've been away from each other for months, trying to acclimate to new lifestyles, and have therefore changed and grown. It would be ridiculous to think that they would have grown in the same direction at the same rate. That is my reasoning.**

** Anybody like what's going on with Steve and Maria?**

** Remember, only a couple more reviews till the big 250! Have an account, send me a PM with your idea, and remember I don't write M rated things. Well, I suppose I **_**could…**_**it just wouldn't be smut or anything like that. Sorry. :/ And thanks again to **Himitsu-no-Paradise **for the beautiful picture that now represents this story. You too get a one-shot along with Number 250! Send me your idea!**

** I don't know the next time I'll be able to update, but I will try to make it soon. :D**

** Love you all lots!**

**Books**


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